Legendary Courtesy Of The Elves
by Alarice92
Summary: Weronika was lost. She was in a strange land, which looked like it belonged in a medieval painting. The people were strange, too: dwarves, hobbits, and one particularly courteous elf. M for language. 10th walker.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **It's always hard to start. You want to write so many things, and when it comes to it, you don't know what to say. I'll try to start from the beginning ;) I've been obsessed for a while with the idea of a 10th walker story, but I've never read a good one: either they were abandoned by writers, or...weren't to my taste. Most of those characters were too perfect for my liking, and the idea of my own OC started forming in my head.  
I am most definitely not saying it will be surprising. My idea is a slow romance between my OC and Legolas. By slow I do mean slow ;) Though, even if it's not going to be surprising, I am not saying it won't have a plot. My intention is not to surprise you with crazy plot twists, but it's a love story, and I've got every intention to make it a bit... sappy. It's got its plot, a plot I put a lot of thought into, but I didn't try to make it something that didn't exist before. I tried to make everything flow and to make the plot interesting - for you and for me.  
I did my best to make Weronika act like a human being, not some superhero or Mary-Sue. I am not promising that I succeeded, but I can promise that I did my best. I tried to give her a personality of her own, and I guess I succeeded at that because she stopped listening to me.  
Also, I can promise this one WILL BE finished. I can promise that mostly because I've got quite a large piece written already, and some of it has even been beta-ed. I am planning on making it three stories (partly because I think one would be too long, partly because my beta and I had a hard time picking one title ;)), starting and ending at the same places as the books.  
The story is mostly based on the extended versions of movies, but some parts are more book-like. I tried to fill the gaps between particular scenes with my own. Some of the details might not fit, and I am more than aware of it - this is intentional. My beta is a real Tolkien freak, and I swear she wouldn't allow me to make idiotic mistakes - if there are any deviations from the canon, we made them on purpose.  
Updates will be posted on Fridays - I am not mentioning the time because we all live in different time zones and it's hard to specify the time. Sometimes they'll be every week, sometimes every two weeks - as I said, I have quite a piece written, but if I do happen to run out of written chapters or if I know I won't have time to write for a while, I'll have to slow down to avoid leaving the story without updates for a month or two.  
All that being said - I proudly invite you to read the first chapter. I do hope that you will like it and that you will stay with us ;)

Huge thanks to my beta – Michela – for her hard work! ;)

_xxx_

Weronika rubbed her tired eyes, stretching her back the slightest bit. She looked around carelessly, noticing unconsciously that one of her colleagues looked as if he had fallen asleep. The lecture on surgery was coming to an end, and she couldn't have been happier. As much as she loved her studies, she was completely exhausted, and after all, it was four hours long. Her boyfriend had dumped her last weekend, and she hadn't slept very well the last couple of days. He had told her that she was stubborn beyond reason and that life with a self-willed know-it-all was too much for him. Though, as she had thought to herself on her first sleepless and tear-filled nights, it might have had something to do with her constant rejections to sleep with him. And maybe, just maybe, with that girl, Ania, who seemed to be greatly interested in his pants. Or getting them off. Whatever.

"Idziesz?" a quiet, friendly voice reached her ears, and at the same time Weronika felt a slight pat on her shoulder. She jumped lightly on the chair, looking back at her best friend. The lecture hall was almost completely empty, and she hadn't even noticed when all of the students had left. She quietly nodded, finding out in surprise that she didn't have tears in her eyes after thinking about her ex anymore, which was quite unusual at the moment. Maybe she had just already cried out all the tears she had. ("you coming?")

Standing up, she gathered all her belongings from the desk in front of her, placing them carelessly in her bag, and looked at her friend. Holding back a quiet sigh, she admitted to herself that she wasn't one of the prettiest creatures on the world. Natalia, with her dark hair, long, black lashes and tanned skin was totally something to look at. And Weronika? All she had was her long and neat hair. Other than that, she was completely pale. Her lashes were thick, but not long and her lips were nicely shaped, but rather small. Not completely ugly, not really pretty. Average.

"Co z tobą dzisiaj?" Natalia asked, looking at her friend with a raised eyebrow. Weronika shook her head, quickly grabbed her notes, and smiled weakly, trying to reassure her friend that everything was in order. ("what's wrong with you today?")

"Nic, po prostu mam kiepski humor," she mumbled, walking toward the exit from the lecture hall with Natalia next to her. (nothing particular, just bad mood)

Feeling that her friend was about to provide another rant about how immature, useless, ugly and boring Weronika's ex-boyfriend was, she quickened her pace, waving a quick goodbye with her hand. She knew it was childish and ungrateful since Natalia was with her all the time, but she couldn't bring herself to listen to it once more.

"Do jutra!" Weronika blurted quickly, not turning around. She could almost sense that her friend stopped in her tracks in silent surprise and offence. She would deal with that tomorrow, right now she needed at least one afternoon WITHOUT her ex appearing in every conversation of the day. (see you tomorrow)

Everyone except Natalia thought that Adam, the ex, was perfect. Weronika had to listen to endless rants from her parents about how she should go and try to make things up. To her father's credit, he said that they would not be forcing her to do anything against her will, though his eyes said otherwise. Her younger sister had gently tried to tell her that if she sat locked up in her room with her notes and studied all the time instead of trying to find a new boyfriend, she would end up a spinster. What was more, Weronika couldn't exactly explain that she wasn't interested in a new relationship just yet. After all, she and Adam had been a couple for almost a year. Not exactly long, but not short either, just enough to feel sad for some time, and she wanted to do so. She had a feeling that right then she would subconsciously compare every male to her ex. Trying to say so, she only earned herself a look of pity from her sister.

Time was all she needed. If only it was holiday and she could get away…

_xxx_

She was walking slowly back to her home, eyes locked on the ground in front of her. As much as she wanted to get home, she didn't feel like facing her mother _again_. It would mean another round of advice to go and apologize to Adam. For what, for fuck's sake? That she wasn't perfect? And who was?

Sighing quietly, she noticed a shop nearby and decided to get some food in order to avoid leaving her room tonight. Completely determined to spend some time alone, perhaps watch a movie, she opened the door and entered the grocery store.

Weronika mumbled under her breath, trying to choose between caramel and chocolate cookies. Her eyes wandered between the labels, and she pursed her lips slightly. With a final, annoyed snort, she threw both packages into the cart and moved forward.

_No need to care, you have no boyfriend anyway. You are an independent young woman._

It didn't sound convincing enough, so after short moment of hesitation she also placed a package of cocoa and a huge box of strawberry ice-cream in her cart.

_She might not fit through the door, not a big deal anyway._

Loading a few more things into her cart, fully aware that she was about to buy herself a takeaway diabetes, she turned to the cash desk, rummaging through her bag in search of a wallet.

"Trzydzieści osiem pięćdziesiąt siedem," the mid-aged woman said, looking over Weronika's shoulder with a bored expression on her slightly neglected face. When she went to hand the cash to the saleswoman, her eyes widened as she paused, feeling a strange, tickling sensation in all her limbs. Without any sound, she disappeared. (38,57)

The woman clutched her heart, and her eyes widened, looking for the young girl who had been there just seconds ago, before she ran out of the store.

"Złodzieje! Kosmici!" she squeaked and then fell down, unconscious. ("Thieves! Aliens!")

_xxx_

With a loud thud, Weronika landed gracelessly on her arse in the middle of a muddy puddle close to some wooden gate. Rain was falling, mercilessly whipping her face and long hair. Before she could actually contemplate her rather bizarre situation, or at least stand up, she heard loud gasps behind her. Forcing her eyes not to shut and swallowing slowly, she turned her head, hands dipping into the mud as she did so, trying to see something through the darkness. Four children were standing behind her with their mouths open. Girls' hands were clasped together as they observed her with wide eyes.

Gathering all her courage, Weronika stood up with difficulty and tried to approach them, but the children started running away.

"Dzieciaki! Zaczekajcie!" she shouted, but they had already disappeared behind one of the grim buildings, and she had no chance of finding them in the darkness. Someone yelled from behind, making her jump. Breathing heavily, she pressed her back against the wooden wall of the building next to her as she was passed by a cart pulled by a bay horse, which snorted aloud, his complaints accompanied by the loud shout of the coachman, who was yelling something in English about irresponsible young girls as far as she could tell – the sound of the falling rain was deafening. ("Kids! Wait!")

"Co…" she started slowly when someone approached her, making her jump. ("What…"

"What is a young lady like you doing in the middle of the street at such a late hour?" someone asked in a hushed voice, moving closer to her. She could smell the alcohol in his bad breath, and she gasped in surprise at his closeness.

With her mouth still wide open, she stared at the stranger, trying to gather her thoughts and force her overloaded brain to formulate a sentence in English, which appeared to be quite hard in the current circumstances.

"I…" she mumbled, not entirely sure how to act or what to say. She couldn't judge if he meant any harm, so she hugged the bag of groceries she had bought mere minutes ago tighter to her chest in a defensive move, taking a small step to the left.

"Are you looking for some delight?" he asked temptingly, following her movements clumsily in his drunken state. He licked his lips in a seductive manner. Her eyes widened even more as she tried to back away, but a strong arm grabbed her by the elbow, not allowing her to move.

"Let me go," she forced through her dried mouth, squirming awkwardly. The man only laughed, pulling her closer, his disgusting breath making Weronika wince in disgust. She tried to recall any moves to defend herself, but she couldn't think of one. So she stood there, shivering violently, fully aware of what was going to happen, when someone came to stand behind her and the filthy man.

"Is there a problem?" a deep, masculine voice asked. She moved her head sharply, scared eyes widening as she looked at this new man. He was wearing a hood, so she didn't see his face, but seeing her only chance to get away, she pulled her hand away from the attacker's grip successfully and started running, repeatedly stumbling on the slippery, muddy road. With horror, she noticed that the man in the dark cape was following her, leaving the drunken man next to the wall with his hands defensively pulled up. Moaning quietly, Weronika forced her legs to move faster. Had she escaped from one trouble only to fall into another? Was he a friend of that pervert and they were about to… Together?

When he noticed she wasn't going to stop, he quickened his pace, catching up with her easily and grabbing her elbow. His touch felt more gentle than the one she had experienced mere minutes ago, but she didn't stop fighting in a pointless attempts to free herself from his grasp.

"Puść!" she squeaked, not thinking about the language she used, not even caring if he could understand her. Her brain spun around one piercing thought only: she must get away. (let go)

She clasped the fingers of her right hand onto his huge palm that held her left forearm in a weak attempt to remove it, but her efforts didn't seem to affect him the slightest bit. Biting her lower lip painfully, she decided she should save her strength for later events, so she stopped jerking. Her body was shaking violently as they stood motionlessly in cold rain in the middle of another muddy puddle, but she stopped her pointless attempts to free herself.

"Lady?" the voice coming from under the hood sounded a bit concerned and slightly surprised, and he loosened his grip as she stopped struggling. She took a step back, blinking in surprise. "I mean no harm to you. Is there anything I can help you with?"

Weronika looked carefully at tall man in front of her. Realising that she had nowhere to run actually, not to mention she had no clue WHERE to run, she took a deep breath, feeling her clothes getting heavier and heavier from the rain. Before she managed to say anything, the man put his hand on the small of her back, pushing her gently toward a building. This half-caring gesture made her more at ease, so she followed him dumbly. Hugging her bag to her chest, she followed obediently wherever he guided her, silently begging for him to be trustworthy. It was all just so…

_Weird? Fucked up?_

"It's an inn, lady, it is warm inside, and you are chilled," he said slowly, as if he wasn't sure if she could understand him. She nodded her head slightly, not able to force any response through her icy, trembling lips.

He opened some wooden door, letting her in first. Her eyes cast a quick glance around as he guided her through crowded pub or whatever it was, his hand still touching her back gently. The noises coming from the people around here were nothing in comparison to the sound of the falling rain outside, so for the first dreadful seconds she was more than sure that she had lost her hearing. Slowly, merry voices started reaching her ears again, and unknowingly, she breathed a sigh of relief as warmth started spreading in her limbs.

The first thing that hit her in this "pub" was a lack of any speakers and music. Second – that the room was lit only by partially burned candles. Her head was moving frantically around, her eyes trying to see into the shadows. There were many people, all drinking and merry and, to be honest, rather dirty. The stink which filled the room made her wince in disgust as she was guided further.

Abruptly, he pushed her gingerly to sit at some sort of a wooden table. She stared up at his silhouette in the low light provided by the candles as she grabbed the edge of the bench she was sitting on. She stared at him intently and couldn't bring her eyes to stop doing so even if her usual self would find it impolite and embarrassing. Frowning, she noticed his clothes were rather… Weird. His shirt didn't have buttons; it was tied with some sort of dirty strap. It also didn't have any collar, which was typical for normal shirts. Feeling a flash of anxiety, she looked at her own body to find that her blue jeans and t-shirt had been replaced by a rather thick, well-fitting dress in a shade of dark grey. Moving her fingers to touch the material, she noticed that they trembled slightly and clenched them into a fist, hiding her hand under the table and moving her eyes back to her companion, who carefully watched her movements with dark eyes, no emotions visible on his face.

"You cannot wander around at such an hour, my lady," he pointed out with his deep, masculine voice, his eyes piercing into hers as if he wanted to read her mind. Despite the fact that she felt rather uncomfortable under his gaze, she couldn't bring herself to look away, staring at him with her lips slightly parted.

After what felt like hours to her, Weronika shivered slightly and coughed to clear her throat, aware that she should probably provide some response.

"I…" she started slowly, sliding closer to the wall as some drunken males passed their bench, noticing with some relief that he didn't even move or spare them a single look, and the men also seemed to subside a little bit as they passed him. The impression that they were scared of her companion provided her with some weird feeling of some comfort and safety. "Where the hell am I?" the question sounded a bit as if she dared him to laugh at her and tell her that it was just some sort of a silly joke.

The male tilted his head slightly, no smile on his handsome face as he slowly examined her pale cheeks. Weronika bit her lower lip, feeling tears fighting their way out. But she couldn't cry. Not now, not here. She must think of some solution for this wicked situation, not cry.

"We are in the village Bree, my lady," he responded slowly, with one look sending away some sort of waiter who approached them, probably intending to offer some alcoholic beverage. "But I believe you know it since you live here."

"Where is it?" she mumbled, ignoring his last, mocking sentence, trying to remember anything from her geography lessons back in high school. "Somewhere in England? Or USA?"

His frown deepened, but he didn't answer as his attention moved to the scene happening behind her back. Weronika also turned sharply, watching with wide eyes as some child disappeared in the middle of the wooden floor. Before she could even blink, she felt that she was pulled up violently by a strong arm and dragged in the direction of the kid. Stumbling, she followed obediently. It happened so quickly that she didn't even have a time to voice her disagreement.

"You draw far too much attention to yourself, 'Mr Underhill," her companion hissed, leaning over the boy and making her do the very same, still holding her with one arm while pulling the kid up in a slightly aggressive manner. Weronika opened her mouth to protest, but all of this, all of this sick situation felt so unreal that she couldn't gather her thoughts properly to form a sentence in a foreign language.

She numbly followed hooded man, noticing with surprise that the hand which had held her forearm now clasped her own hand as he dragged the kid in front of them up the stairs. No one, literally no one, tried to stop him, apparently too scared to protest. And, honestly, she wouldn't protest either if she was them. Her companion opened one of the doors on the first floor, shoved the kid inside and guided her in in a more gentle manner, letting go of her hand as he closed the door behind her.

"What do you want?" the kid asked in a surprisingly mannish voice for a boy his age. She couldn't help but quietly gasp when she noticed that he trembled violently, just like her. His dark blue eyes were watching the tall man warily. Weronika leaned against the wall next to the door, searching for support and feeling her knees hit on each other when she did her best to stand straight.

"More caution. That's no trinket you carry," the man answered in an angry voice, looking intently at the boy who, as Weronika noticed in candle light, was not a boy actually, more like a young midget. Brown hair fell on his forehead in loose curls, and his eyes were surprisingly big. He looked like a small cherub in this light. If only she wasn't so scared, she might have been able to admire his beauty.

"I carry nothing," the weird person answered quickly, looking fearfully at the man, but, to his credit, he wasn't shaking anymore. Outside, anyway.

"Indeed," the man snarled, pacing around the room. Then, he walked over to the candles and extinguished them with one puff, making Weronika's eyes open wider in silent fear and in an attempt to see something in the darkness. Now there was only the weak light of the moon coming through the small window on the opposite side of the room. "I can avoid being seen if I wish…" the male started slowly, casting a thoughtful look through the window before finishing the sentence. The girl shivered lightly. "But to disappear entirely, that is a rare gift."

And with those words, he pulled down his hood again, and Weronika narrowed her eyes to take a closer look. He was tall, no doubt about that. His face was scarred a little bit, a beard covering his face. A small, slightly mischievous smile danced on his face as his dark – green, maybe? – eyes looked straight at the midget. No matter how much she was scared right now, she had to admit – he was quite a thing to look at.

"Who are you?" short man asked slowly, looking with those incredibly huge eyes at the man next to the window.

"Are you frightened?" His voice was slightly mocking as he answered, and Weronika had to bite her tongue to stop a shaky "yes" from slipping from her trembling lips, but it vibrated in the chilly air anyway. She covered her mouth with a cold hand, gasping soundlessly, before realizing that it was actually the short male who had said that.

"Not nearly frightened enough," the handsome man smiled slightly with a hint of sadness in his voice, whispering those words. The sound of them made the girl shiver even more as she pressed her back tighter to the wooden wall in a desperate attempt to seek safety, her fingers trying to dig into the boards. "I know what hunts you."

She felt as if she was invisible to them, and the last words from the male made her consider whether she should try to escape or not. After all, whatever hunted the mysterious _them_, she didn't feel like being involved in. But just then, before she could move her feet even an inch or move her eyes, the male cast a quick glance in her direction, and she felt literally frozen to the ground. A short silence fell on all of them, only Weronika's heavy breathing disturbing the perfect tranquility. Just then the door opened noisily, making the girl gasp in surprise, while her companion drew his sword and pointed it at three midgets standing in the doorway.

_xxx_

**A/N: **I know I cut it in a weird moment, but there was no better place for like another six pages ;) Hope you liked it and I'd love to know your thoughts. See you next Friday!


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Here we go! Another chapter.

**jshaw0624:** it's quite tough for me to explain. Yes, technically you pronounce it with 'v', but in a different manner than English. Type "Weronika" into Google Translate and use the pronouncing option – it's quite accurate, though weirdly accented.

**Rue Dawn:** hope you'll like this one too!

_xxx_

They were the weirdest little rescue mission she had ever seen, and maybe she would have even laughed at their desperate attempt to help their friend if she wasn't so frightened. They were holding funny things as their weapons: a stool and a candlestick. The one in front held his fists high, yelling threateningly.

"Let him go! Or I'll have you, Longshanks!"

She looked at her companion uneasily, seeing him hiding back his sword with a smirk.

"You have a stout heart, hobbits. But that will not save you," he said with small smile, looking with some admiration at three little creatures, who looked at him carefully. Then he turned and started walking around the room in a slow manner.

_Hobbits_. Something clicked in Weronika's mind at the sound of that word. She could almost promise that she had heard it before. Thinking quickly, she tried to remember when and how, though in her current state it wasn't easy at all. Her eyes widened at the sudden thought. It was _a movie name._ She gasped quietly, but no one paid the slightest bit of attention to the scared girl pressed against the wall.

"You can no longer wait for the wizard, Frodo."

_Wizard?_

_FRODO?_

She swallowed hard, blinking quickly. Understanding flashed in her eyes as something clicked in her mind again. Wasn't that also a name from a movie? She wasn't a great fan of fantasy, barely seeing Harry Potter and Marvel movies, but at the thought of Lord of The Rings, three names came to her mind instantly: Gandalf, Legolas, and that goddamn Frodo.

"They're coming," the tall man said in a low voice, his eyes locked on the window.

Snapped out of her thoughts, she looked nervously at the handsome man, quietly trying to decide who he was. The little one was Frodo since he was named so by tall man, and the man said that he could not wait any longer for the wizard. As far as she remembered, Gandalf was the whole Dumbledore-like wizard. So… She closed her eyes for a second before snapping them open almost instantly, silently reminding herself to keep her guard up. Was it Legolas? Wasn't he blond?

_Gather yourself together and think…_ she thought to herself, trying to calm down her racing heart.

"It is not safe for you to be here," the male said to Weronika. "Go home."

She laughed shakily, looking at him with slightly watery eyes, licking her lips in a weak attempt to gather some courage before parting them to respond.

"I guess it's too far to go there" she mumbled, more to herself than to him. He frowned and grabbed her arm, pulling her behind him. She hugged her bag tighter to her chest, handbag dangling on her shoulder to the rhythm of their steps, suddenly aware how much smaller and weaker she was than him. Maybe sticking to that dude until she could think of something wasn't such a bad idea after all?

Weronika jogged behind the male with hobbits trampling on her heels as he guided them down the stairs, through the laughing crowd, and into the night outside. Cold rain fell on them mercilessly, and Weronika recalled how wet her clothes had been and still were, clinging to her body. They sprinted for a minute or two through the mud and ran into another sort of motel. The tall man just looked at the person next to the fireplace and nodded, pushing her violently up the stairs. She stumbled in the darkness, but two strong arms pulled her up impatiently.

"Get in," he ordered the hobbits, opening one of the doors. They did so, but when Weronika tried to follow them, he stopped her with one of his hands.

"Go home, lady," he said gently, looking at her intently. "It is far too dangerous for a young lady like yourself to be here with us. Go, and never mention what you have seen."

She licked her lips nervously, breathing heavily. She felt her panic grow at the thought that this man – whoever he was – wanted her to go away, while she had nowhere to go. She didn't know him, but as far as she could tell, he meant her no harm. No harm was pretty good in this weird town. Not to mention that everyone seemed to be afraid of him. And, frankly, she wasn't surprised, he was damn dangerous and… Wild. However, sticking to him seemed to be the wisest idea she could think of right now. Although earlier she had wanted to escape, now it sounded like the most idiotic idea ever. Where would she go? Back to those dark streets to get raped or even killed? With no money, no knowledge of that place?

Shaking her head rapidly, she took a step back to look at him fully. Her completely wet dress clung to her body, long red hair plastered to her skull as her wide yellow-green eyes locked on the stranger's face imploringly. The plastic bag was growing heavier in her weary arms, and her neck throbbed painfully under the pressure of the strap of her wet handbag, but it wasn't a place to complain at all. So instead, she simply stared at him, as it was all she could do with the pain in her body.

"I have nowhere to go," she mumbled dumbly, not moving her eyes from his grey ones.

He frowned slightly, as he looked down at her and closed the door to the room in which hobbits were. She took a deep breath, feeling that she should explain further.

"I… I know it will be hard to understand and to believe, but…" Weronika stopped, looking for words as her aching brain worked hard to translate her thoughts into English. "You see, I don't belong here. To this town. To this world, even." Weronika merely whispered the last sentence as she stared ahead blankly. Grey eyes were looking at her intently, but she didn't notice. She was back in Poland for a second. She sucked air into her lungs again, trying to regain her composure and continued. "I don't know how it happened. Kill me, but I don't know. I just… Appeared here."

"What you say makes no sense, lady, stop making jokes, and get back home. I will not kill you, do not worry," he said slowly, casting quick glances across the dark corridor, as if looking for any possible threat. "If you fear walking home alone, I will walk you back, but you cannot stay here."

"I really have nowhere to go!" she almost shrieked, tears again in her eyes. She decided it wasn't the best time ever to explain the 'kill me' expression. "Please…"

He looked at her intently, remaining silent for a minute or so. She felt water falling down her face, not exactly sure if it was her tears or the rain dripping from her hair, but she never moved her eyes from his, never budged to wipe her face. She didn't even blink in a desperate attempt to prove her honesty.

A quiet sigh filled the air as the male looked down at the very stubborn lady in front of him.

"You will be in great danger with us. Just go."

With those words he moved to enter the room, but in a last, desperate attempt she took three steps on shaky legs and leaned against the door, shaking her head frantically. She had actually no clue why she wanted to stick with them so badly, perhaps it was because they looked… Normal in comparison to the men in the pub. Not to mention that the huge sword attached to the belt of the man standing in front of her gave her some odd feeling of comfort. Well, as much as a sharp, dangerous object could give. Besides, they were her best shot at this moment, a sign of safety and a chance to think of a way out of this situation. The male had proved many times that he didn't mean any harm – if he wanted to rape her, kill her, do _anything_ to make her suffer, he had had like a million opportunities before to do so.

He sighed impatiently, looking at her with a mixture of amusement and anger in his eyes.

"I shall walk you home first thing in the morning, my lady."

She nodded absent-mindedly. She would think of something before the sun rose And hopefully, it would be pretty damn good. And would lead her back home.

The man opened the door, motioning for her to go first. As she entered another dark room, she noticed three hobbits lying comfortably on a huge bed with their clothes still on and Frodo sitting at the foot of the bed, looking at her and her companion with his huge, beautiful, blue eyes.

"Get out of the bed! The lady shall sleep in it since she keeps refusing to go home," the man behind her growled at the hobbits, closing the door behind him. The little creatures started moving quickly, but she shook her head, choosing to ignore his provocation for now. She knew better than to lose her temper in such circumstances.

"No, no!" she protested, her hands clenching harder on her soaking bag with groceries. "I am not sleepy. I just need a towel to dry my hair; other than that, I am completely fine."

She forced a half smile, which probably looked more like a grimace, but it convinced the three hobbits to stay in the bed.

_Well, at least they aren't s stubborn as the man…_

The male behind her shrugged slightly, but didn't protest further. He motioned towards quite huge… piece of cloth.

_This is a towel?_

He passed her to sit on the windowsill, followed by a wary look from Frodo. Without thinking, she put down her bags on the small desk close to the door and moved to cover her hair with the material. To her delight, she found it was made from something close to cotton. After taking care of her poor hair, she dried her face as well as she could in those circumstances, feeling as it burned with every rub. Then, she moved hesitantly in male's direction.

Seeing her stand three steps behind him, he motioned for her to sit on the chair next to the window. She did so hastily, nervously trying to straighten the dress she was now wearing. If it was meant to be her clothing, so be it, she didn't feel like destroying it first off, as she had no clue when she would manage it back to her world and her clothes.

A deep silence fell in the room for a few minutes as Frodo stared intently at the man next to Weronika, and Weronika's eyes wandered between both of them. She finally felt her limbs heating up in the warmth of the fire from the fireplace. It also made the tweaking of her cheeks worse, but she tried to forget about it.

"You didn't offer me your name, my lady," the man next to her said quietly, looking down at her shortly before turning his gaze back to the rain outside.

"I… My name's Weronika" she answered shortly with a slightly husky voice. Weronika cleared her throat.

"It's an honor to meet you, lady Veronica." he said with a small smile dancing on his lips.

Weronika nodded slowly, looking at him. In the weak light of the moon he was even more handsome than she had noticed before, but her mind was far, far away from finding herself a boyfriend right now. Not to mention that he must have been in his forties, while she was 23. Not exactly her idea of a perfect relationship.

"And what's your name?" she heard herself asking before she gave it a second thought. She clasped her icy cold fingers together in attempt to warm them a bit.

'I am called Strider by the people of Bree," he answered politely with a short nod of his head, before moving his gaze back to the street.

Weronika was searching her thoughts, trying to find the name or nickname in her memory, but she failed. If she had been right at the first place about those names and the most idiotic idea that they were fictional characters, she was screwed: she only knew the second part of the story, and she had only seen it once on TV at Christmas three or four years ago.

_You should have read Tolkien instead of Rowling…_ she thought angrily. She vaguely remembered that they were on a mission to destroy some nasty ring, but that was all her tired brain could dredge up from the depths of her memory right now. Hopefully, she would remember more detail later.

Everything was happening so quickly that she didn't even feel too much of the surreality of the whole situation. She moved fingers of her left hand to pinch some of the skin on the right one to find without a huge surprise that it wasn't a dream. It was all just too real to be a dream. Even the rising pain in her throat seemed completely realistic.

"You cannot stay with us, lady Veronica," Strider said slowly, in a hushed voice, designed only for her to hear, snapping her out of her thoughts. "When the sun rises, we will escort you to your household."

"I have no home here," she repeated weakly. "I didn't lie when we were talking before. I am not from this world. Even not from these times, since there is no central heating!"

She earned herself another frown from her newly met companion. She played absent-mindedly with the material of her dress, looking through the window, trying to see something despite the cascading rain. Or, more accurately, trying to avoid his piercing gaze.

"You cannot go with us; the matter is closed, my lady," he answered sharply, turning his face to look through the window, showing her that the conversation was over. Weronika pursed her lips, but said nothing.

He might be scary, but she was stubborn.

_xxx_

**A/N2:** We will come to Legolas, just… be patient ;) Really do hope you liked it! Mind to share a thought about this chapter? See you next Friday!


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Here we go again. Thanks for the reviews, loved to read them both! ;) Hope you'll like this chapter, too.

_xxx_

The weak light of the waking sun surrounded her, mercilessly penetrating through her closed eyelids, so she slowly opened her eyes, blinking a few times. Her throat throbbed painfully, and her head ached. Where was she? What was all of this? This bed… smelled awful. With that thought she finally remembered everything. She had fallen asleep last night in the chair. That man, Strider, must have put her on the bed.

"Strider?" she asked slowly with a husky voice, looking around as she pulled herself up on her elbows. Her mind filled with anxiety as no one responded. "Frodo?"

Dead silence surrounded her. She jumped out of the bed, looking through the dirty window, and then she noticed them as they were standing in front of the motel, pub, whatever it was, readying for the road. Weronika huffed and rushed towards the door, grabbing her handbag and the bag of groceries, and flew out of the room, not even bothering to lock the door behind her.

„Nie pozbędziecie się mnie tak łatwo," she mumbled under her breath, the pain in her head completely forgotten. Running down the stairs, she almost fell down twice, but she didn't pay attention. "Dupek czy nie, raczej dobrze wymachuje mieczem więc musi mnie znieść póki czegoś nie wymyślę." ("You will not get rid of me that easily. Arsehole or not, he is rather good with a sword, so he must endure me while I will figure out something.")

She flew past the old man, the same one who had allowed them go upstairs last night. He looked at Weronika strangely when he heard the weird language she spoke, taking a pause from smoking his pipe for a short second.

"Elves…" he mumbled to himself as she rushed out of the building, leaving the door open and allowing cold air to rush into the stuffy room. He shook his head, moving back to his previous activity.

She looked around to see the hobbits and man disappearing behind the corner. She rushed after them, clumsily slinging her bag over her shoulder. Surprisingly, the shoes that had appeared on her feet when she had… popped into this realm…were quite comfortable to run in, light but supporting her feet quite well. With her free arm, she pulled her dress a bit up to make it easier for her to run.

As she jogged behind the hobbits and the man, taking deep breaths through her mouth, she decided that she would follow them at a distance until they were too far from the town for the male to send her back. She kept a distance that seemed good to her, really, really hoping that her condition from the times when she used to take dancing lessons would allow her to chase them long enough.

_It was ten years ago, genius… And you took three of them._

Just then, around 200 meters from the town, Strider stopped. Weronika instantly hid behind a bush catching her breath as quietly as she could, not daring to move.

"Get out of there, lady Veronica. There might be insects," she heard his deep, masculine voice shouting to her. Gritting her teeth, she narrowed her eyes and stepped out from behind the wide plant. She looked at him challengingly. "'You are welcome to join us if you truly wish to do so, however; I can provide neither the comfort nor the safety that you may have had in the city."

"I barely found the city comfortable in comparison with my world," she snapped angrily, her voice still husky, as she walked toward him quickly. She grunted, trying to clear her throat. "And I didn't exactly feel safe before I had met you yesterday."

He smirked slightly, motioning for her to go first. She looked at the four hobbits, glancing at her curiously, and smiled in spite of herself, feeling slightly relieved when they reciprocated the gesture.

"My name is Weronika," she said to them in a friendly manner, unconsciously bowing slightly as she introduced herself. Her voice still sounded as if she had drunk too much yesterday, and she made a mental note to check if she had any anti-inflammatory tablets in her bag, as she was almost sure she didn't have anything for a sore throat. Who would, if it was the middle of spring back in Poland?

"My name is Merry!" shouted one of the hobbits, well, merrily. "And this is Pippin!"

"I can introduce myself!" his friend retorted, narrowing his eyes.

"It's fine." She grinned. She looked at the prettiest hobbit and said, "I know that you are Frodo, but what is your name?" She looked at their fourth companion.

"Samwise Gamgee," he said, looking at her cautiously with his big honey-brown eyes.

"We have no time to waste. Lady, place your things on Bill's back," the man commanded, gesturing to indicate the pony as he passed the hobbits and the girl.

Weronika obediently placed her bag of groceries among the stuff brought by the hobbits. When Sam motioned for her to hand him her handbag, she refused as politely as she could. She would keep it close, in case she was whirled elsewhere. Besides, she still had to find those pills. She started searching her bag, mouthing "a-ha!" when she found what she needed.

"So… Where are you from?" Pippin asked politely, walking next to her. She looked down at him with a small smile, swallowing the pill.

"Well, it's not a place you know," she said slowly, carefully choosing her words, aware that everyone, including Strider, was listening. "I am not… Well, not from this world. My country is named Poland and it's… Well, nowhere near."

There was silence, which was disturbed only by Bill snorting and the tapping of his hooves as they slowly moved on.

"Lady Veronica simply has a vivid imagination and a strong desire for adventure," the man finally said, and she couldn't decide whether he was annoyed or only teasing her, as he walked in front of them all. His cloak flapped in the wind, reminding Weronika of a huge grey bat with brown hair.

Weronika narrowed her eyes at him but didn't argue. They were still close to the town, and she was afraid he might send her back. She walked quickly, sticking close to the hobbits. She eventually became rather uncomfortable with the silence that had descended upon them so she approached Merry, smiling at him.

"And where are you from?" she asked. They were climbing up a green mountain, the city now a small dot on the horizon, for which she was thankful. They were far from the town, and she hoped Strider would not change his mind about taking her with them.

"Ohh, from a beautiful place, the Shire, lady!" the hobbit answered. He was about to continue when his stomach growled loudly, so he frowned and with an apologetic smile slowed his pace to join Sam and his horse.

She heard little Sam mumbling to Frodo that he was not sure whether they should trust Strider, and she almost chuckled aloud when she heard the big-eyed hobbit say something about the man being foul.

"But where is he leading us?" Sam said in a hushed voice, which she could hear only because she was close enough. Nevertheless, she jumped slightly in surprise when the man responded to this barely audible question.

"To Rivendell, master Gamgee."

She watched silently as Merry and Pippin started squeaking something about seeing the elves.

_Elves. It's getting even better._

No matter how much she hated to admit it, this new world was a pretty place when the daylight came. It reminded her a bit of The Forbidden Forest from the Harry Potter movies. A bit grim, but still charming. The very thought of it made her sick as she realized that if it was anything like The Forbidden Forest, she was fucked. Well, she could handle the unicorns; they were completely fine and within her capabilities… But huge spiders or centaurs were a completely different story.

It suddenly occurred to her that she would be pretty damn lucky to survive one day. Making some sort of a decision, Weronika rushed behind Strider.

"Sir?" she asked as she caught up with Aragorn, who sent her a glance over his shoulder but didn't stop. "Ummm… Sir, umm… Strider, I mean… Don't you think it would be wise… Well, I mean I don't exactly know how to use it, and I am totally against any unnecessary violence… But the violence against my body I find completely and utterly unnecessary and… Well… You know, the unicorns are cute, however; any other creatures might be slightly dangerous and…"

"You are safe as long as you follow my commands." he interrupted, finally finding some point in her hectic babbling, although he frowned slightly at the mention of unicorns.

"Oh, great!" she almost squeaked trying to sound relieved, jogging next to him since her legs were too short to actually keep up with him easily. "But you know, if you wouldn't mind… I mean, can I get a weapon? Just as a precaution, if… I misunderstand any of your commands? Like you know, something big and sharp, so that I can kill spiders?"

She grinned innocently as he looked at her with a partly amused, partly surprised expression on his handsome face. His eyes moved to her rather small and delicate hands and his lips twitched in an effort to keep from laughing. Then, he slowly unfastened a small dagger in its sheath from his belt and handed it to her.

"Do you know how to use it?" he asked seriously, looking down at her incredulously.

"Not exactly," Weronika started slowly, dragging her fingers over the leather sheath and shivering slightly at its roughness "But I guess I will find out when…" she swallowed involuntarily, correcting herself immediately. "IF I have to use it."

Just then, Strider turned around, looking at the hobbits questioningly as weird sounds reached his ears. Sam and Merry were unpacking some things from their horsie, including something that looked suspiciously like... a frying pan.

"Gentlemen, we do not stop till nightfall." the man stated, looking at hobbits a bit threateningly, though she couldn't help but think that a small hint of amusement danced in his voice.

"And what about the breakfast?" Pip asked with amazement in his voice. Weronika's lips curled into a smile involuntarily. Merry and Pippin were actually making this whole fucked up situation seem a little more real to her and a little more bearable.

"You had it," the male answered slowly, frowning.

"We've had one, yes. But what about SECOND breakfast?"

With disbelief on his face, Strider shook his head slightly, turned around, and kept on walking. She was sure he wasn't exactly pleased with his company, which made her feel even more sympathy for the hobbits.

Weronika smirked at the almost terrified expressions on hobbits' faces and was about to follow the man when she remembered something. She stopped and walked back to the horse, reached for her bag of groceries, and pulled out a bag of caramel cookies, opening it. Seeing the curious faces of her companions, she grinned, taking two cookies and handing the almost full package to Sam.

"Try it," she encouraged them before jogging to catch up with Strider. When she reached him, she offered him one of her cookies, which, to her great surprise, he took. After looking suspiciously at the little sweet in his hand as if it was poisoned or filled with broken glass, he took a bite and started chewing it slowly. When he swallowed, he sent her a careful look, although he didn't comment on its unusual – for him – taste. In general, she wouldn't call him talkative at all. _Well, maybe in a comparison with a corpse…_

Dusting the crumbs off his hands, he quickened his pace, involuntarily making her jog along is side in attempt to stay close to him.

_xxx_

When they camped for the night, she couldn't have been more happier than she was when she was finally able to sit down and give her trembling legs a long deserved rest. Actually, she couldn't recall last time she had felt so comfortable while sitting on the grass.

With a great amount of relief, she noticed that the hobbits were also stretching their legs tiredly as the five of them sat down, so she wasn't the only one who felt completely exhausted. It made her feel a bit better because the last thing she wanted was to make the man leave her in some village on their way because she was slowing them down. Strider was gone, to get them a supper, as he had explained to her before leaving with his bow and quiver. Her throat had stopped aching painfully after the massive portion of anti-inflammatory drugs she had taken during the day. She was running low on them, and all she could have done was to silently beg not to become ill had the pain persisted.

Her clothes were all wet because they had been struggling through some nasty swamp for half of the day. Something like mosquitoes, just slightly bigger and more… bloodthirsty had attacked them as they had advanced slowly but steadily. They had literally tried to eat the hobbits alive, making them wave their short hands and kick their legs frantically. Weronika really wanted to help, and she tried using her anti-mosquito aerosol, but it hadn't really bothered the insects, though Merry had said that the perfumes she sprayed them with smelled nicely. At least they didn't feel sick from its aroma. One good thing – for her, anyway – was that the hobbits were more tasty to those little creatures, so she and Strider had made it with just a few bites.

Bitter blood, Sam had commented under his breath, waving one hand furiously and guiding his pony with the other.

She felt rather relieved that she had survived one day. Before Strider came back, she was long asleep between two blankets, offered to her by Sam, while the hobbits awaited their supper rather impatiently after neglecting the million meals they were used to eat during the day.

Weronika woke up in the middle of the night, hearing someone singing quietly with a melodious voice. Her legs were throbbing painfully and she found out that her throat was sore again, but still she shifted slightly to see that it was Strider who sang with a barely audible voice, lazily puffing his pipe. She blinked a few times, listening to the sad song, on the edge of falling asleep again, the timbre of Strider's voice driving her back to dreams, when she heard a hushed voice, which brought her senses back to their non-sleepy state.

"Who is she?" Frodo asked, leaning on his elbows a little bit. At first, the girl's eyes widened because she thought that the hobbit meant her. Just then, she understood he meant the song. Weronika didn't move, for some reason feeling that this was a private conversation, not meant for her to hear.

Strider's head snapped around to look at Frodo, so she closed her eyes quickly, repeating to herself that what she was doing wasn't most definitely eavesdropping. The sky above them was clear, and she held back a quiet gasp when her widely opened eyes noticed its beauty. Never in her life had she seen so many brightly shining stars.

"This woman you sing of," Frodo specified, bringing Weronika's thoughts back to them. Strider hesitated a bit before answering, but finally she heard his quiet response.

"'Tis the lady of Luthien, the Elf-maiden, who gave her love to Beren, a mortal."

"What happened to her?" Weronika heard hobbit ask the same question which came to her mind, and by the short, heavy silence that fell on them, she could tell she didn't want to know the answer, and neither did Frodo.

"She died," the man said with a voice filled with emotion; Weronika couldn't really tell why. After all, what was so unusual about death? Everybody dies…

Frodo remained silent, and after a few seconds she heard Strider add, "Get some sleep, Frodo."

Obediently, the hobbit laid back down on the grass with his hands resting behind his head. Soon enough, Weronika's eyelids also felt heavy, and she allowed another wave of slumber to wash over her.

_xxx_

They were advancing slowly up a hill, and once again, Weronika found herself seeking Strider's company. It was great fun to listen to Merry and Pippin's stories and songs, but it annoyed her beyond reason that the man seemed to still think of her as a stupid human girl who had some odd desire to meet the elves.

Her stubborn nature couldn't possibly accept that someone didn't believe her when she had told the plain truth. So, she joined the man again and opened her mouth to start a conversation, but he was first to speak.

"We will get some rest soon," he said, looking down at her with some sort of concern. Neither her nor the hobbits had endured this travel well; her back was constantly covered with sweat from the physical efforts. She had muffled her coughing as well, and even if he hadn't commented on it, she knew he had noticed.

_Because, well, a deaf man would have noticed._

The hobbits on the other hand, had kept grumbling about hunger but seemed to endure quite well in the physical aspect. Of course, they had been tired, but at least they hadn't been coughing out their lungs.

"It's fine," Weronika answered, smiling slightly. "I'll be fine."

Strider nodded his head and didn't try to say anything more. Well, talking with him wasn't the easiest thing in the world, especially with her language issues.

"So… Umm… How far are we from our destination?" the question slipped off of her tongue before she thought about it. She just couldn't stand that silence, feeling like an unwanted intruder. Besides, it was still a better topic than weather.

"Around 6 days, my lady. 7 maybe, if we meet any trouble," he responded mildly, not looking at her. Indeed, he had an annoying habit of not looking at his interlocutor.

Weronika nodded her head, not finding anything more to talk about. She was about to slow down her pace and join the hobbits, when she heard Strider's voice.

"Aragorn."

She tilted her head to the side, taken aback. His eyes were wandering around carefully, but she noticed that the corners of his lips twitched, as if he had noticed her surprised face. Too focused on him, she didn't notice a root and tripped over it, and she would have fallen if a huge palm hadn't grabbed her by the elbow.

Mumbling a few rather offensive Polish phrases under her breath, she lowered her gaze to hide her blush. She had a feeling that her awkwardness amused the man, and she was angry with herself. Back in _her_ world, she hadn't been all that clumsy. She hadn't had to wander around in the wilderness, though.

"You asked my name back in town, and I offer it now, my lady," the man said, this time looking at her seriously. Weronika wanted to laugh, but seeing his expression she refrained. Perhaps it _was_ a big deal to him and nothing to laugh about.

"Oh," she managed after a few seconds and really hoped that it didn't sound offensive to him. "Well, so… Thank you, I guess?"

"The pleasure is mine," he almost mumbled, and she felt dismissed.

Slowing down her pace, she joined the hobbits but couldn't turn her gaze from Aragorn's back.

_xxx_

**A/N2:** Thank you that you spared some time to read today's chapter. Would love to read your opinion! See you next Friday : )


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Here we go with another one. Hope you'll like it!

_xxx_

After another day filled with never-ending marching, they were finally resting in a ruined watchtower or something like that. Aragorn had said that it was rather safe, and that was all that mattered to her barely working, tired brain. All she could do was ask Sam for a small amount of water to wash her face before sitting down on the ground with no intention of getting back up until the end of this century. The good thing was that her throat had finally given up. She was running out of anti-inflammatory meds, so she felt rather relieved. She was still coughing a bit, but it was nowhere near her previous state.

If she had been tired yesterday, this was beyond her mind – she felt so completely and utterly exhausted that she wasn't even hungry, though she should have been starving, since the last time she had eaten some bread with a piece of roasted rabbit caught last evening by Aragorn, it had been around round noon, and, as Merry had told her, it was around eight in the evening right now. How he knew she couldn't tell – he wasn't wearing a watch or anything that could show what time it was.

Silently, she watched as Aragorn gave weapons to their hobbit companions, hugging her dagger closer to her chest, her handbag to her left.

Standing up, the male announced with a quiet sigh, "I am going to look around. Stay here."

"No worries, I don't feel like wandering around in search of spiders…" she mumbled quietly, making Pippin giggle nervously. She smiled at him, trying to show that she was only kidding.

Moaning from the pain in her legs, she pressed herself tighter to a small clump off moss behind her and put her handbag under her head. In spite of the fact that she actually hadn't had a single moment to think about her situation the whole time she had been there and that she wasn't exactly comfortable lying with goddamn worms around, she fell asleep in a matter of seconds, too tired to do anything else.

She was woken up by a loud masculine voice yelling something with horror. Groaning, she pulled herself up a little bit, opening her swollen eyes reluctantly. It took her a few seconds to realise where she was and why she was wearing a weird dress. She felt as if she had slept an hour at most, and every part of her body ached horribly, begging silently to provide some more rest. She blinked slowly, trying to clear her blurry vision at least a little bit.

"PUT IT OUT, YOU FOOLS, PUT IT OUT!"

Her still sleepy eyes opened widely at that scream. She saw Frodo stomping on a small fire in front of Pippin, Merry, and Sam. And then a most horrifying, loud sound – something between a scream and screech, but much louder and scarier – reached her ears. Jumping to her feet instantly, she grabbed her dagger and leaned against the stony wall, her other hand clutching her handbag as if it was a lifeline. The hobbits slowly reached the edge of their hiding place, listening carefully, and Weronika couldn't help but admire their courage – she wouldn't go near the edge even if her life depended on it. By the sound of their gasps, Weronika guessed they had seen something. And those sounds, as she just realized, were really similar to those made by the creatures yesterday night at the town. Shivering violently, she drew her dagger out of its sheath, holding it in front of her. When she had asked Aragorn to give her a weapon, she hadn't assumed that she would need it any time soon.

Weronika's eyes wandered around, looking for any possible threat. The sky was just as beautiful as yesterday, and the surroundings seemed to be quiet, yet she couldn't stop shivering violently, feeling a little dizzy from standing suddenly. It was quiet for a moment, so she hoped that they had experienced some sort of a collective hallucination and nothing more.

The hobbits moved closer to her, and all of them looked around together. Then, four black creatures appeared in their line of sight, making Weronika tighten her grasp on her dagger. The monsters were slowly coming closer to them. As if one thought led them, the hobbits and the girl started retreating slowly, their weapons in front of them. They probably would have fallen down the cliff if a loud, aggressive shout from Sam hadn't snapped them out of their shocked state. With disbelief, she watched as one of the creatures sent Sam flying to the wall, where he fell, unconscious. Just then, Merry and Pippin moved to stab two creatures, leaving Frodo vulnerable and alone. She followed Merry, both of them trying to hit one of the monsters and failing horribly. Looking at the hood of the creature in front of him, Frodo again started to recede. His sword fell to the ground with a loud clatter when little hobbit tripped and fell to his back with quiet gasp of surprise.

Weronika shuffled on her feet, rushing to the little hobbit to help, only to stop when he _disappeared_. She gasped in surprise, and all of the creatures seemed to forget about the presence of the three other hobbits and the female as they all gathered in the place where Frodo had lain mere seconds ago, one of them stabbing the air. With horror, she realized that she heard a loud cry of pain, as if someone had actually been stabbed. Another louder and...wilder...shout joined the cry. Turning her head quickly and raising her weapon again, Weronika noticed that it was Aragorn, not another enemy. At the same time, Frodo appeared on the ground.

Suddenly feeling safe again, she rushed to Frodo's side, stumbling on her way, but proceeding nevertheless. She dropped her weapon next to her left knee and kneeled down, inspecting the hobbit's wound with one fast look. She felt at ease: this was something she knew, something she was good at. For the first time since she had joined them, she felt that she could make herself useful.

She noticed with relief that it wasn't as deep as she had feared it might have been. Still, Frodo was shivering violently and making sounds of pain, distinctly struggling for every breath.

She frowned slightly. It wasn't large or deep, barely deeper than a usual scratch. And yet, Frodo kept yelling and crying in pain, his eyes shut tight. She tried to steady him by the arms, but at only caused him to cry out more, so she moved her hands back, lifting them so that he could see she didn't mean any harm, though it was pointless, as his eyes were shut tight. After a few seconds, his eyes snapped open, staring intently at the sky, and his whole small body shivered as if he had a seizure.

"Frodo, calm down!" she yelled in desperation, knowing that it was highly unprofessional, but it was the only thing that came to her mind at the moment. Weronika looked at his shivering body, his endless cries of pain piercing her ears as she helplessly looked around in search of something to steady him, her hands shaking. "I want to help, let me see it! I really know what to do!"

However, the hobbit acted as if he couldn't hear her, eyes turning slowly so that only the white of his eyes was visible.

"Kurwa…" she mumbled through her gritted teeth, desperately trying to keep herself calm. Feeling helpless made her scared beyond reason. (fuck)

All the hobbits were kneeling around Frodo, casting quick glances between the helpless girl and their ailing friend. She turned around to see Strider approaching as their enemies were not in their sight anymore. He was panting heavily, and his dark, stormy eyes were locked on Frodo.

"It's not a dangerous wound, but I think it might be somehow poisoned!" she said with a shaky voice, surprised that she managed a sentence in English in her current terrified state. He knelt next to her, and she silently begged for the man to know what the fuck was actually going on.

The male took a sword lying next to her thigh in his hands, looking at it with a painful expression on his face. She watched with wide eyes as its cutting edge…disappeared in the air, leaving a little bit of smoke or dust. She took a sharp breath, not able to move her eyes from the sight.

"He's been stabbed by a Morgul blade. This is beyond my skill to heal," Aragorn said quietly, angrily throwing the blade of the sword away. A dull clatter joined Frodo's yelps of pain as it landed on the ground. For the first time since she met him, he seemed helpless. If she had been scared before, now she was close to hysteria. "He needs Elvish medicine."

With those words, he grabbed Frodo in his arms and rushed ahead with worry written in his grey eyes, pursed lips showing his determination to save the little hobbit. She rushed to take her belongings and silently followed Strider, the hobbits close to them, Sam pulling his pony, with two wet marks on his face that disappeared on his wide chin.

They all ran silently through the night, supporting each other when someone stumbled on a protruding root. All three hobbits and Weronika herself were breathless, but none of them offered a single complaint, knowing perfectly well that every second mattered, being "to be or not to be" for Frodo. Panting, they progressed as fast as they could through the night. They were chased by those horrifying screams, but the hobbits didn't seem to pay attention, more worried about their friend, and Weronika herself was quite busy trying to remember anything from her classes that might help to heal Frodo, though it was quite useless because she had never been taught about _Morgul blades._

The unbearable thought came into her head that maybe it was beyond her skills and knowledge?

Weronika had always been taught that the life and health of her patients had the highest value. That she was supposed to help them at any cost. She felt an almost physical pain in her chest when she was so helpless.

After a few hours of endless running, just when she had started to wonder if she would last and seriously considered just asking them to leave her there, they stopped to catch a breath, Aragorn with a torch in his hand and Sam kneeling next to Frodo with his broad face covered in tears. Weronika rested her hands on her thighs, all too aware that she couldn't sit right now or they would have a sick hobbit and an unconscious female to deal with.

"He's going cold!" Sam exclaimed, and at the sudden reminder and with some relief that she could handle it, Weronika opened her handbag with slightly shaky hands, pulling out a small first aid kit. She took out a silver blanket, and, forgetting her previous thought about not sitting down, she fell to her knees and tried to cover Frodo with the blanket as tight as possible with her shaky hands.

"It will make him warmer," she mumbled to Sam, who rushed to help her tuck the blanket tighter around little body of the suffering hobbit. With trembling lips, she looked straight into worried eyes of Sam and felt tears building in her eyes and guilt growing in her heart. What use could she possibly be if, being a medical student, she couldn't help with a small wound? Was she really one of those people to take the Hippocratic Oath? It didn't matter to her that the wound was caused by some fucked up, poisoned weapon. She wanted to help, and she couldn't, and that was driving her mad.

"I am sorry," she whispered unconsciously, absent-mindedly noticing that she had somehow managed to speak English again, staring intently at Sam, her eyes begging for understanding from the little hobbit. He looked at her with glistening eyes and trembling lips. "I am so sorry, I really have no fucking idea what to do!"

As if through thick curtains, she heard Aragorn explaining that Frodo might become one of those monsters if he didn't receive help soon. The voices of the monstrous creatures sounded closer to them, but Weronika couldn't really pay attention. Her eyes were locked on Aragorn, mouth opening and closing like a fish trying to breathe in the air as her brain slowly processed his cruel words. The man explained something in a hushed voice to Sam, and both of them ran into the woods. She watched their silhouettes until she couldn't see them in the darkness.

Weronika looked down at shivering hobbit and placed her hand on his forehead, noticing how cold he was. Trying to calm herself down, she took a deep, steadying breath. Then, she looked at his half-opened eyes. Feeling sick, she slowly opened one of Frodo's eyes wider, his dark blue iris now in a shade of light blue or grey, full of broken veins on the white of his eye.

A few minutes after Aragorn and Sam had disappeared, a bright light appeared in between the trees. Weronika gasped, moving closer to Frodo, her right hand grabbing her dagger and gripping it so tight that it hurt. Merry and Pippin were close, and they also took a death grip on their weapons.

"Don't come closer!" she yelled in a weak attempt to save Frodo from whoever it was. She was ignored, and the most beautiful female in white robes on a white horse appeared. She dismounted gracefully, approaching them and talking to Frodo in a language that Weronika didn't understand. With a feeling of slight relief, she saw that the woman wasn't shining after all, her skin was simply extremely pale, and her white dress, in addition to the small lantern she held, gave such an impression in the darkness of the night. However, Weronika remained tense, not knowing what to expect. "Aragorn!"

Aragorn appeared in between the trees and jogged to the female's side, and both of them inspected the hobbit's wound. The female whispered weird-sounding words to Aragorn, who was breathing quickly, though Weronika couldn't decide if he was just tired from running or if he was nervous. Sam appeared right behind him, panting heavily.

Then, the female said in English, looking straight at Aragorn, "He is not going to last. We must take him to my father."

Weronika heard one of the hobbits ask where they were taking Frodo, but she couldn't move to see which one did so, and an annoying humming sound in her head made it impossible to recognize the voice. Her hand, which gripped the small hobbit's hand tightly, removed gently by the unknown woman's hand. Her touch was gentle and her fingers warm, and without any force she made Weronika loosen her grip.

The girl remained in the same position, kneeling and looking at the female with her eyes wide open as Aragorn put the hobbit on the horse and whispered something to his companion. She breathed in and out frantically, digging her fingers into the wet ground. Her silver blanket was lying neglected in front of her in the place where Frodo had lain just seconds ago. After a short conversation between the man and the unknown female in the weird, melodious language, the woman left with the sick hobbit sitting in front of her on the white horse.

The girl pulled herself up unconsciously, slowly walking to Aragorn's side on wobbly legs as he watched the galloping horse disappear in the distance. Weronika could hear the noise her feet made on the dry litter and her own, ragged breathing.

"Where is she taking him?" she whispered, listening to the pounding of the hooves fading slowly. She also noted that the screams of the creatures that were chasing them were fading, and she shivered at the thought that they were chasing after Frodo.

He looked at her as if he saw her for the first time in his life and slowly pulled his right hand up to wipe the tears from her cold, dirty cheeks. She looked at him in quiet surprise. She hadn't known that she had been crying until his dirty fingers had touched her skin. Weronika pulled herself closer to Aragorn in a weak attempt to find some comfort and embraced his waist tightly. A quiet sob left her mouth as she hugged him as tight as possible, hiding her face in his unclean shirt. Absent-mindedly, he embraced her, moving one of his hands on her back in soothing circles, trying to steady his own breathing at the same time.

"She will help him," he said loud enough for the hobbits to hear and yet so quietly that she wasn't sure if the words left his lips or if it was her imagination. "He is safe now."

Weronika nodded her head against his chest, refusing to loosen her grip on his waist, sobbing and sniffing quietly. She felt two pairs of hands embrace her waist and turned her head to see Merry and Pippin hugging her in a poignant attempt to comfort her and themselves. She let go of Aragorn, fell to her knees, and hugged the two little hobbits gently, tears finding their way out again as she struggled not to sob.

"We will rest here until the sun rises, and then we will start again," Aragorn said quietly, not addressing anyone in particular. He was standing behind her with his eyes staring intently between the trees in a useless attempt to see the weird lady once more.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** I am truly sorry for the small delay; had connection issues. My exams are starting, so I might slow down a bit – one chapter for two weeks for like 1,5 month. I am not sure yet though, but decided to let you know if I won't be able to post next Friday. Hope you'll like this chapter!

**Tolkienlover:** never planned anything for Elladan and Elrohir, but I'll give it a thought. And trust me, there will be awkwardness with Legolas, let's just let him show up ;)

_xxx_

Weronika had fallen asleep pretty easily, the warmth of the blankets and Aragorn's promises that Frodo would be just fine putting her at ease. She was exhausted and knew she needed to rest not in order to not become a burden to the others. However, she was woken before the sun rose by a painful throbbing in her left ankle. She took a deep breath, pulling herself up to lean with her back on the rock behind her head. Making sure that the hobbits were still asleep, she put her hand under the blankets to touch her aching leg. Tightening her jaw, she felt under her fingers that it was slightly swollen. Keeping an unnecessary curse from slipping from her lips, she reached for her handbag and, aware that it was highly unprofessional, she took out a painkiller and placed it in her mouth.

"You are awake?" She heard a silent voice from her left and almost choked on that stupid pill. Turning her head abruptly, she noticed Aragorn standing next to Sam's blanket with a dead hare in his hand.

"Couldn't sleep," she whispered, wincing and quickly reaching for Pip's water bag and taking one huge sip.

_He wouldn't mind._

"I brought some food for a meal before we leave," the male explained to her, taking small knife from his pocket.

_Oh, you, you, captain obvious._

"Yeah, I can see that," she mumbled, wrinkling her nose in disgust when the sound of the furry skin separating from the meat reached her ears. She tried to tune the sound. "Do we have a long distance to walk?"

"It depends," he answered. Oh? As talkative as usual.

"On?" she asked slowly.

Aragorn didn't respond, placing the meat on the stone next to him. She sighed and stood up, hoping that the cold air would help to reduce the swelling in her ankle. It wasn't anything dangerous anyway, just an old injury from her P.E. lessons back in elementary school. It hurt from time to time without any particular reason.

_xxx_

The three hobbits and the female were walking at a fast pace, led by Aragorn. It was the middle of the day, and he had promised them that by the evening someone would show up to take them to Rivendell. They didn't hear the creatures yelling anymore, which again made Weronika wonder if they had left the five of them to follow the beautiful female and Frodo, but she didn't dare to ask. She was probably better off not knowing the answer.

"What is Rivendell?" Weronika asked, not addressing anyone in particular, to start a conversation, as the silence was growing unbearable to her. She was trying to find some way to make the time pass faster without worrying thoughts about Frodo. To her relief, the pain in her ankle had worn off before breakfast. She did not know if it was because of the pill or if it had faded on its own, and frankly, she did not care. All that mattered was that after a few hours of sleeping and a warm meal she felt good as new, and she could keep on walking for another day.

"It is a city of the elves, the house of Elrond," Aragorn answered with a half-smile. Since the night before, when she had so desperately clung to him, he had seemed to be a little nicer to her – not that he had been rude before, he just seemed less…distant. Not to mention that he had stopped constantly calling her a liar and repeating stubbornly that she lived in the town in which they had all met. He had seemed to accept that she didn't belong to this world. "We will be safe there, though I should warn you that this place may confuse you at first."

"Why?" she asked curiously, feeling weirdly… happy. The weather was brilliant, and a warm breeze on her face and in her hair would have definitely made her smile if she hadn't been so worried about Frodo.

"The elves are…rather charming. Initially you might have troubles rejecting their…glamour," he smirked, his eyes still looking at the horizon impatiently. Bill, Sam's pony, was huffing quietly behind, probably annoyed because of the weight of all that he had to carry on his back, and she couldn't blame him.

"Oh… Some sort of medieval Veelas, got it," she mumbled more to herself, looking at the ground in front of her to make sure she did not stumble again. She wasn't used to such uneven ground, so she kept tripping over roots and other things, earning herself more smirks from Aragorn. He seemed more at ease since that breathtaking lady had taken Frodo with her, he had even teased her and the hobbits, smiling from time to time. Weronika herself was also in a good mood, finding it easy to believe Aragorn's assurances that now, under Elvish protection, Frodo was safe.

She looked sideways at him. His hair was messy and dirty, and he sure could use a good shave, but his slightly narrowed eyes, shining with their deep grey light, made his face handsome, regardless of the conditions and his current state. They held pride and some sort of vague curiosity, quite a pleasant mixture.

"I do not know what you mean," Aragorn said with a frown, snatching her out of her thoughts. At first, Weronika looked at him in bewilderment, but after a few seconds she realised what he had meant. She took a deep breath, trying to gather her thoughts to create a longer speech in English.

"It's a… Well, there is a… book about a young wizard… and there are creatures, mostly females… stunningly beautiful, something like mermaids perhaps… You know what mermaids are?" she said slowly, pausing every few words, and his frown deepened. Weronika sighed quietly before continuing. "Well, never mind, it's not really important. Was she an Elf? The female who took Frodo to Rivendell?"

"Yes. Her name is Arwen," Aragorn mumbled. His expression was unreadable once more, but his eyes seemed to soften a bit at the mention of the she-Elf.

"She is stunning." Weronika smiled thoughtfully, her eyes still searching for possible threats to her feet on the ground. Aragorn didn't answer, but when she looked up at him after a few seconds, she noticed some sort of happy half-grin, half-smirk on his face, which he tried to hide. It made her curious, but something stopped her from asking about it _just yet._

They had walked in dead silence for about two or three hours - even Merry and Pippin were too tired for any quarrels - when Aragorn gave some sort of triumphant chuckle. Weronika was holding Bill's reins and guiding the pony slowly – she had offered her help to Sam an hour ago. To her delight, the hobbit had first eyed her warily but then smiled a bit shyly, accepting her offer. He had mumbled some words of thanks, breathing a sigh of relief.

When Aragorn made his quiet, happy noise, she pulled her head up and narrowed her eyes in an attempt to see something in the bright light of the afternoon sun. After what felt like an eternity, two horse riders appeared in her line of sight, guiding three horses on a rope behind them: two ponies and one big horse. When they stood in front of Aragorn and Pippin, they spoke directly to the man in the beautiful language she had heard before.

"Mae govannen, Aragorn, Arathornion," one of them said in a melodious language as Weronika's mouth dropped to the ground, almost literally.

Aragorn greeted them with a short nod, said something in the melodious language and took reins of the ponies, leading them to Merry and Pippin. When the horses' reins were safely in the hobbits' grips and Aragorn was gently patting the big horse's nose, the riders hurried away, followed by Weronika's gaze. Well, now she quite understood what Aragorn had meant by "charming". Their long, dark hair fluttered gracefully in the wind as they galloped away, moving in perfect synchronicity with the animals they rode. Both of them were tall and well-built, the muscles on their backs visible as they rode, yet they were both slim.

"Take some things from Master Gamgee's pony so he can ride on it," Aragorn commanded Merry and Pippin, gracefully jumping onto the big horse and extending his hand to Weronika. "You must forgive Arwen; I am sure she thought you cannot ride a horse,"

"She was bloody right," the girl mumbled to herself, finally tearing her gaze from the two elves, who were now only small dots on the horizon, and allowing Aragorn to help her up. She settled comfortably in the saddle behind him, noticing half-consciously that he, too, was very well built, in a different way than the elves, but in a very attractive way nonetheless. She looked at his back hesitantly, not sure what to do with her hands, which she held awkwardly in the air.

"Do you fear horses?" he asked mockingly, as if sensing her awkwardness. They were waiting for the three hobbits to take their seats on the ponies' backs, and the horse snorted and twitched impatiently, making Weronika gasp in surprise. Without further thought, she embraced Aragorn's waist.

"No, no," she mumbled. "Not at all, as a matter of fact I even took a few riding lessons as a child, but it was quite a big distance from my home to the stud, and Dad didn't really have time to drive me there twice a week, so I abandoned those lessons. So more or less, I think I still remember how to sit on a horse and how to move with it while it runs and things like that, but not enough to go alone."

"I see," he said slowly in a tone which suggested that he didn't understand at all. "What is the stud you mentioned?"

"It's…" she stopped in surprise as the horse started moving, tightening her grip on his waist. She cleared her throat in embarrassment. "It's a place where many horses live, and you can take lessons for riding and taking care of them,"

"Stables, you mean?" he asked, looking back to see if the hobbits were doing alright and sending her a quick smile before turning his head.

She snorted slightly, pulling her head back and laughing. After a minute or so, she stopped and coughed in an attempt to clear her throat and answer. It wasn't that funny actually, but she couldn't stop laughing for some reason. Aragorn didn't seem to be offended by her laughter however. The small smirk he gave her looked more like he was amused by her sudden laughing fit.

"Sort of…just…public," she explained when she had finally calmed down and looked around attentively, a small smile of amusement still dancing on her lips.

The area which they were now riding through was way prettier than the forest they had left a few hours ago. It looked like a meadow, and the wind… literally smelt like grass.

"So you don't own a stable? People from where you come must be poor, I take it?" Aragorn asked a bit cautiously with a gentle voice, and she blinked a few times before reacting.

Then, she burst into another set of laughter, resting her cheek on his back. Somehow, it didn't feel intimate at all, so she didn't mind doing so. If anything was to be called intimate, it was the way in which their hips rubbed against each other as they moved with the horse. If she could touch a stranger like that without any subtext, she could also lean against his back, for fuck's sake!

"Let's say so," she finally answered, lifting her face from his back. She started looking around again, quietly enjoying the view. This part of the land seemed to be…brighter. Honestly, she didn't know how to describe it better. It was cheerful and bright, the grass seemed to grow better, and the trees were proud and high with tons of leaves, small birds flying every now and then high into the clear sky.

She took a deep breath. It was weird that she was so calm. Just a week ago she had been lost and had decided to stick to Aragorn and the hobbits only because it had seemed like the only way she would be safe and would be able to think of a solution or way to get back home. For the first few days she had forgotten about the absurdity of the whole situation because she had constantly been tired from walking many, many kilometers a day. Then, Frodo had been attacked and she had been occupied with his well-being. Right now she was out of excuses, sitting comfortably on a horse with her stomach still full from breakfast.

So, closing her eyes, she tried to recall as many details from the grocery as possible, hoping that it would help her. At least, that was all she could think of right now – analyzing the situation seemed quite logical from her point of view.

First, she had packed shitloads of sweets into her basket… She frowned slightly at the thought of the ice cream she had bought, making a mental note to throw the probably already empty package away somewhere. Then… She had wandered around the shop for a few more minutes, standing for a moment next to small shelf of cosmetics, inspecting it in search of something new for her hair… Then… Then she had decided she would go and pay for the things she had chosen and had almost collided with an old female, mumbling a short "sorry" as she had walked away…

"You really do come from somewhere else?" Aragorn asked in a hushed voice, clearly not wishing for the hobbits to hear the question. She was so lost in her own thoughts that it took her a few seconds to understand the question, which made her wonder if he could read her mind. She blinked a few times, finding it hard to switch from language to language in a matter of seconds.

"Yes," she finally answered in a low whisper, unconsciously adjusting to the tone in which he spoke. Aragorn only nodded, falling into another wave of silence.

She almost forgot about what they were talking, back to her own thoughts, when he said, "We shall talk to Elrond then."

_xxx_

"So this is Rivendell?" she whispered to Aragorn's back as they rode slowly into the most beautiful village she could imagine. If something deserved to be called "elvish," this was it in her opinion.

The place felt magical to her. Not literally, as she did not possess any sort of magic herself to judge that, but _damn_, it was gorgeous. Everything seemed to…blossom here, even the houses and paths, however strange it sounded.

Grass that was the perfect shade of green could be seen growing everywhere, the trees wore colours she wasn't even sure she could name; they were so intent and _alive_ that she could almost hear the leaves whispering their little secrets to each other. They eventually reached buildings which reminded her a little bit of some ancient ones she had seen on TV. They were all a beautiful sand-gray colour, and they stood majestic and proud.

She gasped quietly as three elven guards passed them. Aragorn smirked at her reaction but didn't comment, allowing the girl to adjust. If it was possible to adjust.

"Piękne…" she whispered, looking at the creatures with her eyes wide open, for once forgetting to use English. (beautiful)

"If you do not stop staring like that, my lady, I fear that your eyes may fall out," Aragorn said teasingly, stopping the horse and jumping down gracefully. She also slid down before he could offer her help. She wasn't even half as graceful as he was, but at least she didn't fall on her arse, and she had gotten down on her own. With a half-smile she watched as the hobbits dismounted their ponies even less gracefully than she had.

"Will you ignore me?" Aragorn asked, smirking as he stood behind her, also waiting for their little companions.

"I have eyes, so I can stare," she mumbled, trying to hide a smile which was dangerously close to spreading on her lips. Her cheeks were completely red from shame, but she couldn't deny that she found it impossible to tear her eyes from the handsome elves.

"Can we see Frodo?" Sam asked impatiently, voicing the quiet need of all of them as the ponies were taken by a quiet Elf.

"You may," they heard a melodious voice from their left say. They all turned to face the man. He seemed slightly older than the elves she had watched so intently minutes ago, and he was wearing the most bizarre crown Weronika could ever imagine. It shone beautifully as its weird spirals danced along the Elf's hairline. With a quiet gasp, she noticed that he had slightly pointy ears. They weren't as pointed as those of the elves in the pictures she had seen on the internet, but they were still a bit pointed. She felt an odd urge to touch them, and with surprise she noticed that she had started reaching to do so. She quickly moved her hands behind her back, twisting her fingers. His dark brown hair fell graciously on his back, covering it gently, and Weronika twitched slightly, wishing to hide her tangled red hair from the view of this perfect creature. Then, the Elf said something in the melodious language she had heard before, looking at Aragorn.

She looked at her companion, recognizing his name as one of the words being spoken and watched him bow a little bit in front of the Elf king or whatever the elves called him. She wondered if she should bow as well, but before she could decide, the Elf spoke again, this time in English.

"Isdir, guide the friends of Mr. Frodo Baggins to his chamber, please," he said to a male Elf standing behind him. The elf nodded and motioned for them to come, bowing his head.

Weronika started walking behind the hobbits but then noticed that Aragorn wasn't coming. She stopped in her tracks and anxiously looked back to see that he and the elven king were talking, but Weronika couldn't hear what they were saying. Not that it really mattered: she wouldn't be able to understand a word of it anyway…

When he noticed that she had stopped and that she was staring at him with uncertainty in her green-yellow eyes, he smiled at her reassuringly and gave her a short nod. She nodded back and jogged to join the hobbits and the Elf, but kept turning her head to look back, as if the idea of leaving his side scared her.

_xxx_

"Who is your young friend?" Elrond asked, looking at Aragorn with small frown on his perfect features. "Arwen mentioned that there was a female with you, but she is merely a child!"

"I found her back at Bree as one of the villagers tried to…" he stopped, looking at the Elf knowingly. Elrond pursed his lips but didn't comment. "So I took her with me with the intention of escorting her back to her home when the rain stopped. But once we were safe, she kept repeating stubbornly that she does not belong to our world. I do not know why, but she followed me and the hobbits. And my lord…" He took another pause to gather his thoughts, watched closely by a pair of dark, elvish eyes. "I think she might be telling the truth. Her accent in the common tongue is the strangest I have heard in my lifetime, and I have occasionally heard her speak in a peculiar language. She offered the hobbits and I some sort of sweet that I have never had before. Sometimes she speaks of outlandish matters. She asked me what Rivendell is. I do not think that such an act could be feigned; if it is, she is the finest actress I have ever seen."

Elrond remained silent for a moment, his eyes fixed on something far away, which human eyes couldn't possibly see. Then, he spoke slowly: "I wonder… Perhaps we should let the female speak with Gandalf…"

"He is here?" Aragorn asked, frowning. He turned his head around as if he expected the wizard to jump out from behind the nearest tree. "The hobbits told me he was supposed to meet them at Bree, but he did not come."

"Indeed. He was imprisoned by Saruman."

Aragorn's frown deepened, but he didn't get a chance to ask any more questions, as the wizard mentioned seconds ago arrived, smiling happily and spreading his arms in a gesture of greeting, a tall staff held in his right hand. Aragorn involuntarily smiled, encouraged by Gandalf's contagious smile.

"Gandalf, we were speaking about you," Elrond said, looking at the old wizard while Aragorn bowed his head slightly in a gesture of respect. "Aragorn has brought a young girl with him. He says she might not be from our world. Do you know anything about this?"

The wizard's eyes widened slightly, and then the ghost of a smirk appeared on his lips.

"Does she look like an Elf?" he asked slowly, almost solemnly.

"Well…" Aragorn started, considering the question with his eyes locked on the ground as he tried to recall as many details of Lady Veronica's appearance as he could. "I believe she can be taken to be one if you haven't seen too many in your life… She is shorter and does not possess the grace of an Elf, and she is not as attractive as elves… She does not have pointed ears… But other than that, she might be taken for an Elf by a creature who has never seen any of them."

Gandalf nodded his head thoughtfully. Then he smiled and tapped his staff on the ground.

"I believe lady Arwen awaits someone rather impatiently."

And with those words, he left, leaning against his staff. Aragorn's eyes narrowed, and he looked at Elrond questioningly.

"Do not doubt a wizard, he shall explain when the right time comes," was all the response he received from the elven lord.

_xxx_

**A/N2:** liked it? Leave me a thought, please! See you in a week or two! Alarice


	6. Chapter 6

**A/**N: Ummm… So how do you start when you screwed up and didn't show up for half a year? "Hello"? "I'm sorry"? "It's good to be here with you all"?

The fact is that I've had many changes in my life. I moved from my parent to live on my own, I started my first job and I still study on my final year. I was quite busy, but I think the major reason for my lack of ideas was a break up with my ex and finding a new boyfriend. I guess I was so excited with all that butterflies in my belly, that I could hardly collect myself to study.

I am back. As my plate is quite full at the moment and it will stay this way till July of next year, chapters will be posted rarely (like once a month), but to make it up to you all, I will try to keep them as long as possible.

This chapter is extra long for two reasons, one of them being the long time in which I didn't show up and the second – half of it is nothing more than transcription of a LOTR movie scene with some extra comments. I just thought it would be really unfair to post it as a separate chapter. I hope you'll enjoy it.

_xxx_

Weronika almost squeaked from delight when a young Elf-maiden guided her to a rather small, but charming room, in which a bathtub stood. She had almost forgotten what it was like to feel _clean._ Well, to be fair, Aragorn had asked her once if she wanted to bathe in a small stream as they stopped for the night, but the water had been so cold that she had refused his offer.

So now, with the she-Elf showing her where the soap was, along with towels and even herbs for her hair (and at that, she literally squeaked), she felt a huge need to scrub every inch of her body.

"Is there anything else I can help you with?" the she-Elf asked politely, clasping her hands in front of her. Weronika smiled shyly and shook her head.

"No, thank you. I will be good on my own."

The Elf nodded her head and left, closing the wooden door behind her. The girl sighed with delight, slowly walking to the bathtub and dipping her fingers into the warm water. It felt weird under her fingertips. So…gentle. It wasn't the best description ever, but she thought that the water seemed to caress her skin.

With another contented sigh, she started undoing the buttons on the front of her dress.

_xxx_

"What did you mean earlier? Why does it matter how she looks?" Elrond asked, hands behind his back, dark eyes staring intently at Gandalf. The wizard smiled slightly, looking through the window at one of the fine gardens, in which two hobbits and a young female with long, slightly curly hair sat in the shade of a tree. They burst into another wave of laughter as Pippin finished a story, or perhaps a joke.

Slowly, Gandalf moved his gaze to his interlocutor.

"I do not believe this is the most urgent matter to discuss right now. Perhaps we should speak with Frodo…"

"I thought you did not want to speak when Aragorn was present, but now I do not see why you cannot answer my question. Do you really think she is not from Middle Earth? Is she a possible threat to us?" Elrond frowned slightly, joining Gandalf next to the window.

"I believe this is not a matter of worlds, but rather of times. The time we should consider. And no, I do not think she could cause any harm," the wizard said quietly, puffing his pipe. Elrond wrinkled his nose a bit, his elvish senses making the smell of the smoke almost unbearable, but decided to leave that matter for now, as he was eager to hear as much as possible about the current topic of their conversation.

"What could you possibly mean?" the elf asked in surprise, frowning deeply.

"No, no. I do not wish to reveal my suspicion just yet. Though…" the wizard stopped thoughtfully, lazily tapping his nose with his pipe. "I believe I shall speak with Thranduil at the first opportunity."

For a change, Elrond's brows rose.

_xxx_

She was sitting with Merry in the Rivendell gardens, dressed in a clean, pretty dress in a shade of green. The color suited her, as she had been informed by the elven maid who had brought it to her. All Weronika had been able to do was smile, feeling grateful for the chance to clean herself properly and finally eat something that wasn't a hare caught by Aragorn. Not that she was ungrateful, but, well, it wasn't the most delicious thing she had ever eaten without any spices and…well, she had eaten better things in her life.

"He isn't an Elf, is he?" she whispered to Merry, tightening her fingers on the tree in front of her, as the little hobbit smoked some weed in his pipe, sitting on a fallen branch next to her.

The man she was looking at wasn't even halfway as…beautiful as the elves were. He was attractive in his own, rough way, but he didn't even come close to the elves she had been watching silently for the last two days. As Aragorn was mostly gone, she had stuck with Merry and Pippin, occasionally walking with Sam, who had told her about the plants they could find in Rivendell. He had told her that he was Frodo's gardener, and in the short moments when he wasn't sitting next to his friend's bed, he was more than happy to answer all her questions about the herbs that were at hand.

She couldn't help herself - she still had medicine in her spirit, and since the old wizard, Gandalf, had told her they would think of a way to bring her back to her world, but that it would take time, she had decided that she could at least try to use what herbs there were for medical reasons. Not that there would be any need for that; she thought it was more like an interesting experiment. Aragorn had once told her that she should ask elves about all the herbs' medical uses, but every time she wanted to do so, she lost all her courage in the very last moment.

One time, when an extremely handsome elf with long dark hair and amazing chocolate eyes had asked if he could help her with anything with a sexy, sexy smile gracing his perfectly shaped lips, she had started mumbling. In Polish. Curses, mostly. Only curses, actually.

He had the given her a weird look and politely excused himself.

_Weronika, the ultimate seductress. _

However, she guessed she had to get used to the elves, as she would be staying with them until the wizard found a way to send her back home. Soon, Merry and Pippin would be gone, and she would have mostly elvish company. At that thought, she felt a huge lump form in her throat, but she remained quiet, feeling that she should be grateful to the elves and the wizard - they all wanted to help her - instead of whining about the upcoming loss of her little friends.

And she should certainly be grateful that she was getting used to speaking English all the time (except those rare moments when she spoke to an elf – then, she most definitely had used Polish). She kept thinking in Polish, and when she was alone for quite a while and someone spoke to her out of the blue, she needed time to switch between languages. However, the adjusting periods were shorter than before, and she didn't stutter so often in search of words to create a sentence. It was becoming easier and easier to understand them all, though sometimes Pippin forgot about her, and when he started speaking hurriedly, she still had trouble understanding him properly. Nothing that time wouldn't solve, she solaced herself. Not to mention that when she finally got back to her world, she would find it easy to communicate in English. Always look at the bright side.

"No, lady, he isn't," Merry said cheerfully, puffing slowly, a dreamy expression on his face as he moved lazily to look at the man. "He's just a human, like you."

"Oh, thank you, that is lovely, Merry, to find out that I am _just_ a human." She smirked, looking at her little friend mockingly. He opened his mouth to respond but then changed his mind and smiled mischievously, narrowing his eyes a bit.

The conversation between them died, as some more visitors had come. Four almost white-haired men on the most beautiful, proud white horses she had ever seen in her entire life rode through the main gate. They were wearing bows on their straight backs and curious looks on their perfect faces as they looked around.

She gasped quietly, noticing how gracefully they jumped to the ground, and found herself hiding behind the tree once again when the head of one of them snapped to look in her direction. Leaning against the branch, she felt her chest rise and fall in nervous breaths. Digging her fingers into the wood, she looked at Merry with her eyes wide open and whispered, "But those are elves, aren't they?"

"Yes, lady."

"Why are they so pale? The elves here in Rivendell aren't as pale as those. They look like albinos," she said, sliding her back slowly against the branch to sit down on the ground opposite to Merry. She hugged her knees to her chest, silently wondering when exactly she would stop blushing at the sight of elves. The hobbit shrugged slightly and frowned, puffing again.

"What is albinos?" he asked curiously, tilting his head to the side.

"Well, they are…an albino is a person who lacks pigment in their skin, eyes, and hair," she answered automatically, forcing herself not to look back at the elves at any cost. Her breathing was still a bit rapid, but she tried to ignore it. "Well, those elves don't look as pale as albinos, but still."

"What is pigment?" Merry asked, his frown deepening, his pipe forgotten for the last few minutes. Weronika sighed quietly, getting up and shaking her new dress in an attempt to clean it a bit from the dust.

"Forget about it, it's not important," she said, standing in front of him with a smirk. "I think we should sit with Frodo so that Sam can go and get some rest. Poor thingy, he would starve himself to death."

_xxx_

"Are you sad that we will split up soon?" Pippin asked curiously as he and Weronika sat together in the gardens. Merry and Sam had gone to help Frodo gather his belongings in his room. They were leaving the next morning to go back to the Shire. For a second, Weronika felt speechless and totally unsteady at the thought of being left alone. Yes, Aragorn would be here, but he was away most of the time minding his own business, and she had spent most of her free time with the hobbits or reading books in Rivendell's library, since they had a collection of books in English.

She looked at her little…friend? and smiled sadly, fingering the beautiful flower Sam had brought her as another medical herb. It was supposed to reduce fever, as he had told her. Truth be told, it was all like a dream from which she couldn't wake up. Rivendell was truly beautiful, and spending her time in the company of happy hobbits was a surprisingly pleasant experience. Deep inside she knew she should be more concerned about her current state, but since Gandalf had promised to think of a way to send her back to where she belonged, what could she do? It wasn't like she possessed any great magical abilities – she had _none_, to be exact – to try and go back to her world on her own. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she felt good amongst elves and hobbits. The whole situation and its absurdity helped her to forget about things that had troubled her back in Poland.

She felt selfish, but she was also somewhat relieved that she couldn't go back _just yet_. She knew that her parents and sister were probably going mad with fear for her, but all in all, what could she do? She tried to push the guilt aside and…well, enjoy her vacation.

"Lady?" Pippin's quiet voice brought her back to reality. Her smile widened as she tilted her head, looking at her hobbit _friend_.

"Enough of this 'lady' thing. You are my friend, and I want you to call me as such. Weronika." The girl's statement made Pippin grin as he nodded his head willingly in agreement.

"You pronounce your name in a weird way," he noted. "Veronica."

"Yeah… It's pronounced a bit differently in English. I guess you're right; it never occurred to me that it might be confusing." She was quiet for a moment, biting her lower lip thoughtfully. "And about your previous question: of course it makes me sad. But I don't see any other option. I mean, I can't go with you to the Shire! I have to stick close to Mr. Gandalf, and he is staying here."

Pippin thought for a moment about her words but apparently agreed with her, so he only shrugged his shoulders helplessly.

_xxx_

"Strangers from distant lands, friends of old… You've been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor," Elrond said, his voice clear and bright as he looked at everyone sitting in front of him.

She had been in the gardens with Merry and Pippin earlier – late in the last afternoon of the hobbits' stay in Rivendell, desperately trying not to drool at the sight of an extremely handsome Elf talking to the trees when Sam had come, yelling that Frodo had been summoned to some secret meeting. He had literally been terrified. Merry had shouted that everything that concerned Frodo also concerned them and that they should go. Weronika had thought that she couldn't agree more as they all nodded their heads with conviction. They split, Sam running to the gardens, and herself, Merry, and Pippin hiding behind the huge columns on the other side of balcony, terrace, or whatever, agreeing on their way that they would not be eavesdropping. Though, it wouldn't be their fault if they _accidentally_ overheard something while sitting there.

Pippin, crouching on her left, winked at her somewhat mischievously, earning himself a wide grin from Weronika.

"Middle-Earth is on the brink of destruction. None can escape it," Elrond continued, and Pippin rolled his eyes hearing the pomposity in Elf's voice. Weronika covered her mouth with her hand to stop a giggle that threatened to escape her lips. She had to admit, even for her it sounded rather…melodramatic. "You will unite, or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom. Bring forth the ring, Frodo."

There was a silence, so she guessed Frodo was giving the ring to the elven king. Then, silent gasps filled the air. She had to grab Pip's arm to stop him from standing up to look, but the shuffling of his legs was drowned by the general stir among the people collected on the balcony. She narrowed her eyes at him, shaking her head rapidly, and he nodded slowly, understanding. The meeting had just begun; they didn't want to get caught before they actually managed to hear something interesting.

"In a dream…" an unknown voice reached her ears, and she shuffled a few inches closer to the pillar to hear it all. "I saw the eastern sky grow dark… But in the west a pale light lingered. A voice was crying: 'Your doom is near at hand. Isildur's Bane is found.'"

A short silence fell on them, and she looked anxiously at Pippin, gripping his arm as she suddenly heard two voices yelling in unison in some strange-sounding name, or a spell perhaps, and darkness fell on them. She had to cover her mouth in order to not to squeak in horror, her other hand holding Pip with painful force. To his credit, he did not complain. Gandalf, the wizard she had met, was yelling something, but abruptly the darkness vanished, and she let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding.

"Never before has any voice uttered the words of that tongue here in Imladris," the elven king said in a steady voice. Weronika noticed as Pippin and Merry exchanged curious looks, though it didn't make any sense to her.

"I do not ask your pardon, Master Elrond…" the wizard said slowly, breathing heavily, as if he had just run a marathon. To her surprise, Weronika found herself also taking deep, almost painful breaths as quietly as she could, her hands shaking. "…For the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner of the west! The ring is altogether evil."

"It is a gift," the same, masculine voice as before said, slightly angrier, more hectic. "A gift to the foes of Mordor. Why not use this Ring? Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe. Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against him."

For a moment no one spoke, as if they were considering the idea. Well, it made sense, didn't it?

"You cannot wield it! None of us can," Aragorn said calmly, his well-known voice putting Weronika more at ease, though she still felt slightly scared. All of a sudden it came to her mind that maybe what they were doing wasn't the right thing. She didn't understand a single sentence, but the matter seemed to be rather serious, not for the ears of her or the hobbits. However, it was too late to back away without gaining unwanted attention, so she crouched still, frowning slightly. "The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master."

"And what would a ranger know of this matter?" that man, the son of some steward, asked with a voice filled with poison and audible mockery. Weronika felt a rather idiotic urge to stick her tongue out at him, even if he couldn't see it. She felt somewhat attached to Aragorn, since he was the one who had brought her to safety and had asked the wizard to help her get back to her world.

"This is no mere ranger!" A new voice came into the discussion, and by the funny feeling in her stomach, she could say that it was one of the elves who spoke. He had a really amazing voice, melodious yet mannish, a combination she had never thought could work out, and yet, it did work out perfectly. Surprisingly, it was Pippin who kept her down forcefully this time, as she almost stood up to see who had spoken. He looked at her mockingly, raising an eyebrow. "He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn."

This statement made Weronika smirk, and she had to resist the urge to laugh aloud. It sounded dramatic and made no point to her, suddenly reminding her of the "Bond. James Bond," thingy from the movies.

"You owe him your allegiance," the Elf finished in a lowered voice.

Weronika frowned, looking at Pip questioningly, but he only shrugged and made a face, which meant more or less 'nope, lady, I also have no fucking clue who that Arathorn dude is'.

"Aragorn," the male repeated, this time with a new tone in his voice, something between surprise and bewilderment. "This is Isildur's heir?"

"And heir to the throne of Gondor," the Elf finished with his melodious voice, a slight hint of malice in it. Automatically, she smirked at that, not exactly sure what made her do so: the Elf defending Aragorn so obstinately or the idea of her friend being someone important.

Something clicked in Weronika's head. If this stupid, selfish dude was supposed to be the son of the steward of Gondor, and if Aragorn was the heir to the throne…

_Oh shit. So where was her dagger again?_

"Gondor has no king," the man said with a hint of disgust in his voice. Weronika clenched her hands into fists.

_Oh, fuck the dagger. Could she have an UZI?_

"Gondor needs no king," the male continued angrily.

_DAMN THAT UZI SHE WOULD KILL HIM WITH HER BARE HANDS!_

Weronika clenched her fingers on Pippin's arm, his jaw also tightened slightly, as he probably didn't like the way this stranger was insulting Aragorn either. A short silence fell on the people on the balcony, and then Gandalf spoke almost inaudibly and yet clearly.

"Aragorn is right. We cannot use it."

Weronika frowned at that. Why on earth couldn't they use it, if it could destroy their enemy?! It's not like it was going to backfire, right?

"You have only one choice," again, Elrond said slowly. He needn't raise his voice for everyone to listen. Damn those elves really being so perfect should be punishable. "The ring must be destroyed."

Whatever they had in mind, talking about that "ring," it sounded quite logical to her to destroy it if it was such a threat and couldn't have been used to do good. All in all, she was a fan of simple solutions.

However, it wasn't that logical to those people outside, since there was once again a long silence, disrupted only by her own breathing.

"Then what are we waiting for?" A completely new, rather rough voice sounded, someone yelled, and she heard a weird, loud sound of metal hitting metal, which made her wince. After that, a small uproar reached their ears, but they couldn't see what had happened.

"The ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin, by any craft, that we here possess. The ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there it can be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came. One of you must do this."

"One does not simply walk into Mordor," a shaky voice said; she recognized it to be the man from Gondor.

_One_ ring t_o rule them all…_ she thought all of a sudden. Damn, she could provide some well-known quotes from the movie… If only she knew the plot.

"Its Black Gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep. The Great Eye is ever-watchful. It is a barren wasteland riddled with fire and ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly,"

"Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? The Ring must be destroyed," the same Elf spoke, a hint of anger in his voice.

"And I suppose you think you are the one to do it?" the rough voice came again, almost hissing at the end of the sentence from ill-concealed anger.

"Dwarf," Pippin mouthed to her. She repeated the word soundlessly in awe. Elves were real here, dwarves, orcs… What would come next? Harry Potter? Edward? _Unicorns_?

The voices became louder, many speaking at the same time, so she couldn't catch whole sentences anymore. Oh, this was getting funny.

"I will take it." Quiet Frodo's voice came into hearing. She breathlessly mouthed "o nie." This time, Pip's hand found hers, and she squeezed it reassuringly, feeling as he started to tremble, and she couldn't really blame him. How could this tiny, blue-eyed, quiet hobbit, with the most gentle nature in the world, want to do something which, as that arsehole had pointed out, was technically impossible to do without Iron Man covering them? (oh no)

Silence fell on the balcony, and Weronika felt Pip's grip tighten to an almost painful grip on her fingers, but she didn't even hiss; her heart was pounding so loudly in her chest that she was actually surprised they couldn't hear it on the terrace.

"I will take the ring to Mordor," Frodo repeated with a clear, loud voice, full of endless and almost painful courage that she wouldn't ever have expected from him. Weronika felt her heart fill with pride as she almost forgot how small and helpless her little friend was and how fucking serious the whole thing seemed to be. "Though… I do not know the way,"

"I would help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear," Gandalf said with a voice full of emotion, clearly also touched by hobbit's sacrifice. A short silence fell on the people outside, and Weronika allowed her head to rest on the pillar in front of her in a weak attempt to calm down.

"If by my life or death I can protect you, I will." The quiet voice of Aragorn reached her ears, and blood pumped through her veins in a rhythm that she could hear. As her fingers entwined with Pippin's shorter ones, she tried to reason with herself. By the way his fingers clenched on her hand, she knew it was a lost cause. "You have my sword."

"And you have my bow," the elven voice said, followed quickly by the rough dwarven one, as if he didn't want to be accused of cowardice: "And my axe!"

"You carry the fates of all us, little one," the man she already disliked – she hadn't even seen his face – said slowly, almost thoughtfully. Weronika licked her lips nervously, silently promising that if he insulted Frodo, too, she really would kill him, even if that was the last thing she would do in her world. "If this is indeed the will of the Council… then Gondor will see it done."

She cast a quick glance at Merry, who was looking questioningly straight at her and Pippin. She nodded her head, pursing her lips and feeling a strange lightness fill her heart. She had started to stand up, when another voice was heard together with the rustling of leaves as their friend left his hideout.

"Hey! Mister Frodo's not going anywhere without me!" Sam said, desperation in his voice.

"No, indeed, it is hardly possible to separate you, even when he is summoned to a secret Council, and you are not," Elrond said seriously, but Weronika could sense amusement in his voice.

Before she could react in any way, or even think through what was happening, she felt her hand being pulled by Pippin, who was yelling in unison with Merry: "We are coming too!"

In the very last second she managed to raise the hem of her dress high enough to run behind Pippin without tripping on the steps they climbed. A dozen pairs of eyes stared at them in amazement as they ran forward to join Frodo

All was forgotten: the hobbits going back to Shire, her going back to her world. They acted in unison, silently agreeing that there are things which can be called important and things that carry the fate of the world. She couldn't fight properly to protect Frodo, fuck, she didn't even belong there, but right then and there, she knew that she would regret it until the end of her life if she let them go without her. If this tiny, beautiful, good-hearted, brave and…_precious_ hobbit could risk his life for matters which didn't even concern his kind… So could she.

"You'll have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us," Merry added, crossing his arms with determination on his face.

Within a mere second, the three of them were standing in front of everyone, Merry and Pippin as proud as their height allowed, Weronika blushing slightly because of all the attention but also holding her head up, withstanding Elrond's look, which rested on her. She clenched her teeth, all too aware of what would come next.

"I do not see any reason to stop you, hobbits," he said slowly, looking at Merry and Pippin. "However, the lady…"

Weronika pursed her lips, feeling Merry's hand on her wrist as he attempted to encourage her.

"You cannot stop me either," she said aloud, happy that her voice did not tremble, though inside she was shaking like a leaf from all of her emotions.

"Lassie, we aren't going to a ball," a red-haired creature who was a little shorter than Weronika said, looking up at her with narrowed eyes. She sent him the proudest look she could, pursed her lips, and brought her eyes back to Elrond, waiting patiently for his decision.

"Veronica," he sighed, forgetting his manners for a second, or perhaps only treating her like a stubborn child. He looked to the wizard for some help, but Gandalf didn't say anything, for which she was thankful. She didn't see his face, too scared to look back, but at least he didn't comment aloud. "You shouldn't go with them."

"You can do nothing to stop me," she snorted, feeling warmness spread in her body when the hands of both Merry and Pippin squeezed her wrists. Her cheeks were flushed from irritation.

"We can do many things to stop you," Elrond said matter-of-factly, the corners of his lips twitching, making the girl's jaw clench even harder in silent determination.

"The lady would only be a burden for all of us to carry," abrown-haired male added. She narrowed her eyes, as she had heard that voice before. Sir I-know-everything-better-and-Gondor-needs-no-king, at your service. She tossed her long hair proudly, sharply turning to face him. By a sudden movement behind her back, she concluded that she had probably hit the Elf with her hair, but she decided to leave the apologies for later. The longer they debated, the more she was determined go with them, even if it was the last thing she did.

"I can take care of myself," she hissed proudly. A new wave of anger covered her mind as she saw the man's smirk and his amused, almost challenging, stare. She turned back to look at Elrond. "Maybe I wield a weapon, but I know perfectly well how to hide. And they will most definitely need someone to heal wounds."

A quiet gasp reached her ears, and she looked down at a pale Pippin, whose mouth moved in the shape of the word "wounds." She hissed quietly and sent him an apologetic look.

"Hypothetical wounds," she muttered, still looking at her hobbit friend, who now looked slightly green. "Like, if someone was to stumble and break a bone or something."

Pippin inhaled deeply, and Weronika poked herself mentally.

_Weronika, the ultimate optimist. _

But before she could make the situation even worse for poor Pippin, the last voice she had expected to hear just then spoke slowly, with some amusement, making her stiffen slightly. She was more than sure that it was the end of her expedition, if _he_ decided to react. She closed her eyes, preparing for the worst.

"The last time I tried to stop Lady Veronica from coming with us from Bree, she followed us on her own. I believe that even if you tied her up to stop her, she would eventually find a way to follow us to Mordor. The lady carries the greatest amount of stubbornness I've ever seen in my life. I shall look after her if you allow her to come along, my lord."

She looked back at Aragorn in surprise to see him standing behind her with a serious expression on his face, his warm hand on her arm. To her greater surprise, Gandalf was half-smiling, his blue eyes teasing as he looked at Elrond, as if he wanted to ask: "And what are you going to do _now_, my friend?"

"The lassie can't come with us! This is a man's quest!" the dwarf mumbled stubbornly, eyeing Aragorn angrily. Weronika opened her mouth to respond, but she was cut short by words spoken with a melodious voice.

"Females can fight as well as men, even better sometimes," the Elf said, somewhat casually, looking out into space, his words clearly addressed to the dwarf, who huffed angrily. The girl couldn't help but gasp when she noticed a glint of amusement in those lovely, blue eyes.

"Perhaps among some _kinds._" he made short break, which suggested that word "kinds" was definitely an insult. "But she is a _human_."

Elrond's eyes glanced between the blonde Elf and the angry dwarf. The blonde-haired Elf opened his mouth to answer but was stopped by a warning glance from Elrond. Then the elven king sighed and dropped the matter with a short nod of his head. Weronika almost jumped from delight, smiling widely at the dark-haired Elf.

"Anyway," Pippin said, his fingers still entwined with hers, probably trying to change the subject before anyone could protest again, "you need people of intelligence on this sort of…mission. Quest. Thing."

Weronika grinned despite herself, looking down at her hobbit friends.

"Well, that rules you out, Pip," Merry said, crossing his arms, and Weronika snorted with laughter, shaking her head with disbelief. She was trembling slightly from all of the emotions swirling around inside her, so she hid her hands in her dress - the last thing she wanted was to let them think that she was scared. That would only give them a reason to stop her from coming.

"Ten companions…" Elrond said slowly, looking at them all. The girl straightened even more, trying to look at least half as proud as the warriors beside her did.

She didn't know that she did indeed look proud and beautiful in her green, elvish dress, with flushed cheeks and red, slightly tousled hair that surrounded her frame.

"So be it. You shall be The Fellowship of The Ring."

_Xxx_

**A/N2:** so… Is there still anyone reading me?


	7. Chapter 7

Hello! First of all, thank you, thank you, thank you for all your lovely feedback! That's the only reason I came back tbh, because I knew someone was waiting. Again, I could make a promise, that I will try to update as often as possible, but you already know that. Thank you again!

_xXx_

"Aragorn?" she called to him as he walked away after they were declared to be The Fellowship of the Ring. He stopped in his tracks and turned around, looking at Weronika questioningly. She jogged to join him. "Do you think that… We can find here some other clothing for me? I mean, the dress is lovely and all, but it's not the most practical thing I've ever seen, with the long sleeves and everything…"

He smirked, looking down at her with his grey eyes.

"I shall see what can be done," he promised.

"Thanks," she mumbled. "For that and…the intercession. You know," she continued with a slightly shaky voice, smiling at him. "I think Elrond would really have had me tied down in a basement."

"I didn't do it for you, Veronica," he said, calling her by just her name for the first time, the smile slowly fading from his face. "I did it because I believe you really would have found a way to follow us. And this is too dangerous for you to walk around without protection. You do not know how to fight. I neither know nor understand your reasons for joining us, but so be it. As I said before, I will look after you. However, if I decide that it is getting too dangerous for you, you will where it is safe, wherever that is, and if you let slip even a word of complaint I assure you I know a variety of ways to stop you, none of them pleasant. I just wanted to avoid another quarrel."

With those words, he left her standing in the middle of the corridor with her hands clenched into fists by her sides. Her eyes widened and she huffed quietly, looking at his back as he walked away. She opened her mouth a few times like a fish out of water, trying to provide some harsh and intelligent response, but she was way too angry to think of one. As usual, she would have tons of the most amazing retorts in the world. Just…only when it would be too late to use them.

_Douchebag. _

She clenched her jaw and ran in the opposite direction, gathering the fabric of her dress in her hands. She ran as fast as she could, looking around until she spotted a she-elf. Before she could change her mind, she allowed her anger to do all the work. Weronika stopped in front of the beautiful creature, breathing heavily.

"Would you teach me about herbs?" she asked quickly, looking up at the female with anxiety.

The she-Elf spared her one of the most beautiful smiles she had ever seen, tilted her head to the left, and nodded slowly. Weronika grinned widely, feeling utterly relieved that she had managed to ask the question.

_xxx_

It was dark, but Weronika was still sitting in the gardens with a variety of herbs in front of her, mumbling their names silently and touching every plant as she memorized its name. She also had some parchment and a feather and ink which Imri, the she-elf, had given her to take notes with while she had explained the characteristics of each plant. She had found it quite hard to write with the feather, but Imri had shown her how to hold it properly, although she had looked highly amused.

She was more than determined to show those morons that she could be useful. One way or another. Maybe she would be useless during battles, but they _would_ need someone to heal the wounds! Who did they expect to do it? The elf? The dwarf? The hobbits? Pippin had turned slightly green when Merry accidentally cut his arm with a sword as they played in the garden yesterday, so that ruled him out for sure. Especially since he had only been scratched, not even wounded.

So, happy or not, Weronika had found herself sitting in the gardens with a beautiful elf next to her. Of course, Imri had mentioned at the beginning that she could not teach Weronika elven medicine because that was a secret of the elves, and it required using Sindarin, a language the human girl didn't know and had completely zero chances of learning before the next morning. However, as the she-elf had assured her, she was more than happy to give the redhead a lesson about the common herbs she might use for healing. That was good enough for Weronika, since, as a student in her 5th year, she knew quite a bit about medicine herself.

So now, long hours after Imri had left, she sat down there in faint light of the moon and tried to memorize as much as she could before morning. Maybe she was not a warrior, but she wasn't useless for fuck's sake!

Feeling some sort of comfort spreading inside her heart during the familiar act of studying she leaned comfortably against the trunk of a tree. If she could be certain of anything in the world, it was her ability to memorize many things. After all, the jokes about medicine students learning Japanese overnight weren't that far from truth.

Suddenly, she heard a quiet voice. This wasn't unusual because the gardens were a place in which lovers often met, as she had found out completely by accident on the second evening of her stay in Rivendell. What caught her attention was the fact that the voice was speaking English, and it was almost definitely the voice of the king, Elrond.

"In her heart your mother knew you'd be hunted all your life. That you'd never escape your fate."

She wanted to leave, not wanting to eavesdrop, so she started to hastily pack the herbs into the basket Imri had also given to her "in the name of friendship between humans and elves." The next sentences came to her against her will.

"The skill of the elves can reforge the sword of the kings, but only you have the power to wield it."

"I do not want that power," Aragorn's voice answered, and Weronika paused in her movements. "I have never wanted it."

"You are the last of that bloodline. There is no other."

Silence fell on the two males, and Weronika was gone long before Aragorn could respond.

_xxx_

Weronika walked back to her room slowly, trying to push aside the conversation she had overheard minutes ago. Her heart felt heavy, and she wasn't sure if she had made the right choice anymore.

Her mother had always told her that she was untoward. When, as a child, she had been told to clean her room, she had made a bigger mess. When her sister had wanted a dress, Weronika had wanted it even more. When her father had wanted her to become a lawyer, she had insisted on medicine. Not that she regretted that, of course; it was a great decision.

But now… Slowly, an unwanted and treacherous thought reached her mind. It was probably hopeless, a suicide mission. And she couldn't help but think that she had wanted to go so much only because everyone else had been against that idea. Now it was too late to say no, and she would probably regret staying after all, but the shadow of Aragorn's bitter words haunted her. "_I neither know nor understand your reasons for joining us…"_she wondered if she had any reason at all.

"I believe that you wish to speak with me?" A quiet voice startled Weronika, making her jump and hug the basket tighter to her chest. In the weak light provided by the full moon, she finally noticed Gandalf puffing his pipe. He was standing a few steps behind her, in a shadowy alcove. How was it possible she hadn't noticed him before?

"Oh?" was all she managed to answer, standing still in one place.

_Do I, now?_

She was beyond surprised: she had spoken to the old wizard only once, with Aragorn, and, as a matter of fact, Strider had done most of the talking. To be honest, Gandalf hadn't seemed to notice her at all.

Gandalf nodded his head, as if answering to her unspoken question and started walking towards small steps leading to the garden. Weronika followed obediently, deciding it would be impolite to protest. And she was a bit curious.

"You are unsure," he said matter-of-factly, his eyes fixed on the sky above. Without looking at her, he sat down on a stony bench and Weronika found herself doing the same.

_What is it with the men here avoiding their interlocutor's gaze?_

She mentally poked herself. The old man was probably trying not to scare her by being too intense, and she was making idiotic comments in her head.

He blew smoke rings, and she watched in awe for a few seconds her mouth falling open unknowingly. Then she took a few uncertain steps, placing the basket next to the bench and standing next to it with hesitation written on her face.

"Sit."

It was, in fact, an order, though it was said politely, and, to her great surprise, Weronika found herself dropping to the seat as gracelessly as if she was a puppet. For a short while, they remained silent, the wizard still smoking his pipe and the girl watching with silent admiration as the smoke rings left his lips.

"How did you know?" she asked quietly, almost inaudibly. As stupid as it sounded, she felt almost…dirty for breaking the silence in Rivendell's gardens. Instead of responding, Gandalf gave a low chuckle, and Weronika blushed, not exactly knowing why the heat came to her cheeks. Then she took a deep, steadying breath and started slowly, trying to voice her thoughts as well as she could: "I think… Well, when it all happened, I… I was sure that I want to help them. But now… Maybe they were right? That man and the dwarf? Maybe I would only be a problem to them?"

"The hobbits aren't warriors either," Gandalf said pointedly, waving his pipe. Weronika remained silent for a moment, thinking about his words.

"Yes, but that's…different," she said finally, nervously fingering her beautiful dress. The silence between them was deep, but to her great surprise, she couldn't call it…Uncomfortable. Actually, it was quite nice to remain silent with the wizard; she didn't feel nervous because she needed time to gather her thoughts and voice them properly in English. "I… I don't even belong here. I am going back…"

Gandalf tilted his head to the side and then nodded shortly in agreement, at the same time releasing three funny-looking, purple smoke rings from his mouth. For a moment, Weronika wanted to ask what he was smoking and even opened her mouth to do so, but she stopped herself at the very last moment, chiding herself for the stupidity of the question. Instead, she allowed her eyes to follow the rings until they were nothing more than a small cloud of colorful smoke.

"But, let me remind you, I will need some time to think of a way to send you back to your world," the wizard said quietly, bringing the girl's attention back to his tall silhouette. "And, forgive me, I do not have time for it right now. There is no need to worry, though. If Aragorn says he will take care of you, he most certainly will."

Weronika nodded slowly. An unwelcome thought whirled through her brain: maybe he will, but does he want to? She didn't dare to ask it, not exactly sure if she wanted to hear the answer.

They both looked at a young elvish couple walking around the gardens. When they noticed the old wizard and the girl, they rushed in the opposite direction, the female's long hair shining incredibly in the pale light of the moon. Weronika allowed her eyes to admire the view for a moment before turning her attention back to the wizard.

"My family will be frightened," she blurted before she could stop herself. That thought had occurred to her a few times, but she had pushed it aside, unwanted; she was actually having the time of her life right now, and she felt guilty for that – adding the fact that her family worried about her was too much.

"I do not know everything, but I do know some things," the wizard started slowly, thoughtfully, looking down at the girl next to him. His eyes held something strange in them – as if he could have seen through her skin and bones, into her soul and mind, and Weronika twitched involuntarily under the intensity of his gaze. "I believe that your presence here may have changed something in your…world."

She looked at him, not understanding a word. A quiet, ashamed gasp left her mouth as she tried to make any sense out of those words, but she couldn't.

"I think… I do not understand," she mumbled finally, blushing.

"I may be wrong, but I believe that since you are here, your reality has been changed. I do not know how,but I am certain your family are all well and happy," Gandalf explained.

_Not explaining anything at all._

This was quite enigmatic, but weirdly soothing to her. She only nodded her head in understanding and leaned more comfortably on the bench. She was calculating something, trying to decide whether she should say something or stay quiet. Finally, she decided she might not get the chance to have such a private conversation with Gandalf… Well, never again.

"There is…something else," she started slowly, unwittingly swallowing. With another deep breath she looked at the wizard and started, "I am not entirely sure, but I think…some of the events happening here, about that ring, might be…a book in my world."

She waited for Gandalf's response, or at least a sign that he had heard her, but when he didn't speak or move, she continued slowly, thoughtfully choosing her words and struggling to make everything as clear as possible.

"As I said, I can't be sure because I never read it, but, well… There are familiarities, as far as I can tell."

"I would rather you kept that knowledge to yourself. If we can't know for certain, it would be unwise to bring unnecessary attention to the matter," the wizard said slowly, his blue eyes now boring into hers. She swallowed at the sudden feeling that he could read her thoughts and nodded.

They remained on the bench and fell into a sort of friendly silence, Weronika admiring the beauty of Elrond's gardens again and trying to understand what he had told her and Gandalf… Actually, it was hard to tell what he was thinking.

"Do you think… You… They… _we_... will succeed?" she asked with no more than a whisper.

"I do not know," was the only response she received, but it sounded somewhat reassuring to her.

_Fair enough._

Another minute passed, and Weronika finally decided that it was high time to go to bed. It would be her last night in a comfortable bed for gods knew how long. She stood up, taking her basket back into her arms.

"Master Gandalf?" the wizard looked at her questioningly. "Thank you. And… See you in the morning,"

Gandalf only smiled and when he didn't say anything for a couple of seconds, Weronika left.

_ xxx_

To her delight, Aragorn brought her other elvish clothing in the morning. When she saw him, she blushed furiously and mumbled a quick "thanks," not looking at him. Even if she had heard only a few sentences, she still felt guilty for listening to the conversation between Elrond and Strider. It had been way different than the Council. It had been more private. When he left her with his eyebrows slightly raised in silent surprise, she started changing with shaky hands.

The long, tight pants were a colour of dark brown, and the tunic was a dark green. The tall brown boots looked comfortable.

"Wyglądam jak Robin Hood," she mumbled to herself in amusement, straightening her tunic. (I look like Robin Hood)

After a short moment of hesitation, she grabbed the dagger given to her by Aragorn and tried to attach it to her belt, but after dropping it on the floor for the third time, she decided she would ask Strider to do it for her later. Once they were too far from Rivendell to make her go back, that was.

With a quiet sigh and a smile, she grabbed her basket full of herbs with her notes on the very top and walked out of the room, silently reminding herself to ask Sam if he could help her dry the herbs.

_ xxx_

Her belongings had been safely placed on Sam's pony's back, including the basket of herbs and the small satchel in which she had put everything from her handbag. Unfortunately, her beautiful black handbag had been completely ruined during the trip from Bree to Rivendell, so, happily or not, she had had to accept the elvish satchel to take her belongings with her.

She stood next to Pippin with the elf, Legolas, behind her as Elrond spoke.

"The ring-bearer is setting out on the quest for Mount Doom. On you who travel with him no oath nor bond is laid to go further than you will. Farewell. Hold to your purpose."

She looked at Aragorn, not sure if she should bow, but she found him staring at the female elf who had rescued Frodo with a soft light in his eyes. She quickly looked away, finding it too intimate to stare openly. She had seen them together twice and assumed that they were probably a couple but hadn't had a chance to ask him about it. Not to mention the fact that she wasn't sure if he would give her an answer.

"May the blessings of Elves, Men, and all Free Folk go with you," Elrond said, looking at them. All the elves gathered to bid them farewell were tall and proud, and she felt even smaller looking at them all with her eyes wide open. Suddenly, she felt hugely relieved that she was about to leave with the hobbits and Aragorn. The idea of staying with all those courteous, intelligent, beautiful, _goddamn perfect_ elves without her newly found friends made her scared. She silently thanked her stubbornness for stepping in; otherwise she would probably be kneeling in front of Aragorn right now, threatening to starve herself to death if he left her here.

So imperfect.

_With all those perfect creatures._

And Aragorn, being his usual smart self, wouldn't take her seriously.

Gods, gods, bless the stubbornness…

"The Fellowship awaits the Ring-bearer," Gandalf said. His voice made her slightly nervous, but she only clenched her jaw and said nothing, trying to take a few steadying breaths.

Frodo's eyes looked over the elves, and then he slowly turned around, looking at his companions. He seemed so small and lost and scared that it made Pippin twitch nervously at her side. She tried to send the blue-eyed hobbit a reassuring smile but couldn't force her face to move. Then everyone stepped away, making space for Frodo to go first, and they slowly followed him. Once they were through the gates of Rivendell, she turned around and opened her mouth to ask Aragorn if this "Mordor" was far away, but he was nowhere to be seen. After a few seconds of complete confusion, she noticed him standing in the same place, staring at that elf, Arwen, when a tall figure filled her vision. She looked up and found that it was Legolas, the elf, standing in front of her with his blue eyes staring at her with an intensity she couldn't name or understand.

If Legolas from the movies was quite handsome, this one was indescribable. He had light blond hair, pale skin, strong cheekbones, and the most amazing eyes she had seen in her whole life. His eyes were so bright she couldn't actually decide if they were icy blue or light grey.

He looked down at her and said in his hushed, melodious voice, "Do not stop, my lady."

Before she could gather her thoughts, he had passed her, walking gracefully behind the loudly stamping dwarf. Weronika swallowed hard and jogged behind them, cursing her hopeless face for flushing.

Weronika felt relieved when they stopped to get some rest quite soon, after approximately two or three hours of walking. She had a feeling that Aragorn ordered such an early stop for her sake because Boromir wanted to keep on walking, but he stopped complaining when Aragorn sent him a warning glance.

The hobbits started complaining about their hunger. Weronika grinned and joined Sam, who was about to prepare a meal for the whole Fellowship.

"You do not have to help, lady," he offered politely, taking out a huge frying pan. "I can prepare a meal by myself."

"I will help you," she said, still smiling. There was something about effort and endorphins, after all. "However, after we are done, I will need your help with drying our healing herbs."

He smiled at h her, his cute smile showing his white teeth. She had wondered a few times how the hobbits and elves had such perfect teeth without dentists, toothbrushes, toothpicks and all. After a while she had come to the conclusion that it must be racial because neither Aragorn's nor Boromir's teeth were so perfect. It was quite disturbing because she couldn't help but wonder if she would also end up with yellow teeth.

She cooked some rice in some water which Sam had poured into a pot and after that divided it into ten equal portions, silently wondering if she had added enough salt. After a short moment of hesitation, she decided they all deserved a dessert, so she took out the second and last package of cookies she had, putting a cookie on the edge of each plate. They would crumble soon anyway. She waited for Sam to add a few sausages to every plate and then started handing out meals to their companions.

The dwarf took a plate with a short nod; the same happened for Gandalf and Aragorn.

"Merry, Pippin!" she yelled to the two hobbits, training fiercely under Boromir's supervision. "Dinner's ready!"

Both of them threw down their swords, rushing to get their portions from Sam. Weronika took the two remaining plates, handing one to Boromir.

"Thank you," he said, sending her something that was probably supposed to be a smile but looked more like a grimace. She provided something similar, mumbling a short "anytime."

Then, gathering all her courage and self-confidence, she moved slowly to the elf, who stood alone on a rock, looking ahead as if he could see things far, far away.

"Ummm," she started, trying to gain his attention, but it didn't really help, as his eyes were still locked on things she couldn't see. "Sorry to bother…"

His head turned slowly to look at her, as if he wasn't surprised that she was standing there. Timidly, she held the plate out towards him. He took two steps towards her, jumping off of the rock and took it, looking at the food carefully with a small frown on his perfect features.

"What is this?" He pointed at her chocolate cookie, moving the plate closer to his face to have a closer look. Or a sniff.

"Oh…" she gasped quietly. Desperately trying not to look away from him or, even more desperately, not to blush, she explained weakly, "That is…sort of a…sweet." She watched as he moved his face closer to it and sniffed shortly. "Aragorn liked it," she added, lowering her gaze.

_How's that possible: he is sniffing food and I can't even laugh because he looks so…graceful?_

Legolas stared at the plate for a few more seconds and turned his gaze back to the girl. He smiled at her, and she realized with awe that her lips returned the gesture.

"Hannon le," he said, tilting his head to the left a bit. Weronika's eyebrows rose at that and her smile shrank.

"Well," she mumbled after short hesitation, staring at the ground intently, suddenly ashamed again. "You're welcome, I guess."

With those words, she turned around and walked away quickly, feeling completely and utterly stupid.

"Whatever you just said," she whispered, a few steps away from the elf.

"I thanked you, my lady," came the response from behind. She stiffened slightly before continuing her walk back to Sam as if nothing had happened. Her cheeks burned.

_Damn those elves._

_Note to self: if you want to make a comment under your breath in an elf's company, fucking do it in Polish._

She sat down with her plate on her lap, impatiently stuffing a mouthful of rice into her mouth and deciding to forget about the incident with Legolas. With relief, she decided it was salty enough. A bit overcooked, but she had had worse. She looked around to see the hobbits and Gimli eating happily. With small smile, she realized that it didn't mean they liked the meal; they were just hungry, as usual.

Suddenly, she noticed Legolas putting down his own untouched meal and standing on a huge rock next to the edge of the hill they were on. Her fork stopped half-way to its destination as she looked at him with her eyes wide open. She couldn't tell why, but she felt uneasy seeing the elf… concerned?

Soon, the dwarf and Aragorn were looking the same direction. A weird, dark cloud was coming closer and closer to them.

"What is that?" Sam asked, frowning.

"Nothing. It's just a wisp of cloud," the dwarf answered calmly, pushing another piece of sausage into his mouth with quiet groan of approval. He didn't seem concerned, and for a moment Weronika wondered who was right.

"It's moving fast," Boromir observed. She stood up as well, putting down her plate, not entirely sure if she wanted to hide behind Aragorn or a rock, so she made a weird, shuffling movement. Now everyone was staring at that strange shape. "Against the wind."

Weronika narrowed her eyes, trying to get a good look. She agreed with Boromir. If anyone asked her, it wasn't right: clouds didn't simply move as if the wind didn't matter.

"Crebain, from Dunland!" Legolas yelled. Though she had no clue what those crebains were, she didn't like how it sounded. Her eyes wandered from Aragorn to the elf, silently looking for any tips on what to do.

"Hide!" Aragorn ordered.

Weronika looked around nervously, trying to find some safe place, but before she found one, two slim hands grabbed her and pushed her, as gently as the circumstances allowed, to lie down under the nearest bush. Breathing heavily, she looked at her companion. Legolas was staring back at her, his index finger on his lips. She nodded frantically, putting a hand on her mouth, trying to remember the meaning of breathing through the nose. His presence was weirdly soothing, as he seemed anxious, yes, but not scared. Tearing her eyes from his face, she looked up through the leaves at creatures familiar to Earth's ravens. Though, unlike ravens, they were rather silent as they passed and they seemed bigger now, when she got a closer look.

When they were gone, Legolas left their hideout, leaving her alone. After taking two more deep breaths, she crawled out on her shaking limbs.

"Co za poroniony pomysł… Trzeba było zostać w Rivendell… Tam najgorsze, co mogło mnie spotkać to zacięcie się trawą w palec…" she mumbled shakily, standing on her weak legs. (me and my idiotic ideas… I should have stayed at Rivendell… The worst thing that could have happened to me there was a grass cut.)

_XxX_

Ummm… So… Anyone still there? Would love to read your opinion. I know that this chapter was rather boring, but we had to go through it ;) What do you think?

P.S.: I'm looking for a beta, as my English is far from perfection. Anyone, who could help?

A.


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